Emily Dickinson Poem

If it had no pencil ✒

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If it had no pencil
Would it try mine—
Worn—now—and dull—sweet,
Writing much to thee.
If it had no word,
Would it make the Daisy,
Most as big as I was,
When it plucked me?

I'm nobody! Who are you?
If I'm lost—now 🕳

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