Sadness becomes the pall over depression’s bleak coffin
Closing the florid lid on satin-encrusted chests of dismay
Where the stench of a life is entrusted to death and decay
Left in the hopeless depths of a dug-out trench, too often,
Then promptly forgotten unless one is renown, say, a star*
Whose life was made palatable by imaginative, fictional roles
Seen on...
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