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If I Was Dying

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Would you sit by me
If I was weak and fragile
If I was an ugly infant in a sickly cradle

Would you hold my hand
If it was shriveled and yellow
If the skin was cracked and the fingers were claws

Would you look at me
If I could not look back
If my eyes were dried prunes

Would you sing me lullabyes
If I could not hear you
If my eardrums were crumpled wax

If I was dying
And you were there
I would feel you
And I would fight.





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