Emily Dickinson Poem

A Counterfeit – a Plated Person –

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A Counterfeit – a Plated Person –
I would not be –
Whatever Strata of Iniquity
My Nature underlie –
Truth is good Health – and Safety, and the Sky –
How meagre, what an Exile – is a Lie,
And Vocal – when we die –

A curious Cloud surprised the Sky
A Chilly Peace infests the Grass

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