To Be Damned
Never cry over a lover,
whether conqured or lost.
Never cry, whether if she
be acquired or not.
Once it is rot, it is rot.
To the pyre it be tossed.
The heart bleeds; the pen weeps.
The eyes need not shed salt.
One more down; one more crowned
in my backstory vault.
To my mind, most the time,
there is little need to start.
First it bums, then becomes
one more trinket left for art.
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