An Old Story

 Strange that I did not know him then.
 
That friend of mine! 
I did not even show him then 
One friendly sign;

But cursed him for the ways he had 
To make me see 
My envy of the praise he had 
For praising me.


I would have rid the earth of him 
Once, in my pride.
.
.
 
I never knew the worth of him 
Until he died.

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