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Ode to a sofa
Every day Keats looked outside
Not fearing he would pass on
Tears rolled down his eyes
When he said his last words
Keats would lie on a sofa
Thinking about Fanny
He was never a moaner
Just a person who was very happy
Keats wasn’t afraid of death
Though he was very sick
He then took his last breath
When he had tuberculosis
Keats’ heart was broken
When he met the woman he loved
Keats’ words were spoken
And he was very beloved.
Keats died in 1825
He had a little laughter
He lived the ultimate life.
Here lies a man,
whose name was writ in water.
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