|1||Her Dejected Plot|
|Her Dejected Plot|
| It was this rocking wooden chair, |
her belated best friend;
Dancing along with a groggy stick.
Mirrors were to be found nowhere,
as she used to bend
At the sight of her encounter with an odd brick.
Windows were the lines that bear;
standing in the way to vent
A solace and nostalgic . . .
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