They shut me up in Prose—
I dwell in Possibility—
Because I could not Stop for Death—
My Life had Stood—a Loaded Gun—
I heard a fly buzz—when I died.
There’s a certain slant of Light
The Brain is wider than the sky—
This World is not a Conclusion
Much Madness is divinest sense—
This is my letter to the World—
Tell all the Truth but tell it Slant
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