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Poplars
Oh poplars, oh poplars
My body is cold, my heart tingles
With a rough pair of scissors,
Oh, they have carved me out of an old photograph
Half of my cheek was left there
It completes itself with emptiness
Oh, a cut hand on my shoulder
Which still, still bleeds ceaselessly
Oh poplars, oh poplars
The pain haunts me
Oh poplars, oh poplars
They whistle behind my back
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Excellent!