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The Telegram
by David N. Muxo


Dear madame, we regret to say
Your son has died today,
Your valiant son has died.
We've cried and cried
(We'll bury him
And heave a hollow sigh,
And then we'll dry your
Pleading eyes.)

We've cried and cried.

Mother,
I feel so light.
Can I come home?
Oh please, don't lock the door.
I feel so light.


Dear madame, we regret to say
Your son has died today.
(The earth around his grave
Will cry for us.)