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Pride
O, what is pride
That we holdeth onto it.
‘Tis as dew naked in the sunlight,
A beautified bouquet, fresh trim’d,
A flame flickering in the roaring rain..
A mere feeble flamboyance;
That withers as swiftly as breeze through our fingers..
O, what is pride
That we holdeth onto it.
-Titus Loh-
http://after-tim.blogspot.com
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