March in New York A maddening month to see Trees were painted to dark That must be A sad angel of heavens Swallowed the golden lights Of morning sun
March in New York A depressing month to me A snow show suddenly falls That must be A sick Muse Vomited undigested stuffs From last night revelry
March in New York
When morning, a faithful mirror Present a pale face That must be A sculpture of Venus Enchanted by a fleeting of passions In some nights of sleepless
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