Your eyes - downcast, like mine
We really are - alike;
A vagrant, an interloper,
Stop, stranger, stop, passerby!
Take note, bouquets of poppies,
And buttercups taking hold,
Of me being called Marina,
... so many years old ...
Don't think that this is a graveyard,
Or that it conceals - my threat
I, here, confess to laughing -
In proper
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