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Sonnet 1 by Ben Calman
By Ben Calman
What words shall I speak to paint gratitude
Immeasurable? To tongue a curt thanks
Would be not but a cunting platitude;
Yet when I seek words, I draw naught but blanks.
We are in a wondrous situation
Where through our efforts we have exceeded
Hence insurmountable limitations
All thanks to you, as I have conceded
Forever I will hold you in my heart,
Think of you every time I am on stage
Even if we should sadly grow apart
When in th’book of life we o’er turn next page
Pillowman is o’er, and though our hearts rend,
Remember: Even when it is over,
It never truly ends.

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