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Modesties

Words as plain as hen—birds’ wings
Do not lie,
Do not over—broider things —
Are too shy.
 
Thoughts that shuffle round like pence
Through each reign,
Wear down to their simplest sense
Yet remain.
 
Weeds are not supposed to grow
But by degrees
Some achieve a flower, although
No one sees.
Autres oeuvres par Philip Larkin...



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