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Poems

To Hell with Sadness

Here we work like a mill
Striding every day uphill.
Our hands are callused, our backs half-broke,
We chuckle at hope, that indecent joke;
We grin at love as it slips away,
Laugh at life and the hard day
Because the words to the song of gladness
Go like this: C’est la vie and to hell with sadness!

By David Murphy

David Murphy is an author. 
Contact him at: DavidMurphy13 at Gmail dot com.

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