My epitaph will read as follows: Mild-mannered soneteer Jayson Myers died in childbirth yesterday. No, this was not your standard childbirth, rather, he was giving birth to a baby poem, artistic genius, if you ask the editor of the paper. Thank goodness no one else was in the car with him, usually, when driving with others, he tries to avoid childbirth and its often costly repercussions. The artistic genius?(new line)Salt and sweet mingle their ashes
As I sigh the ever infinite sigh,
We’ve been squashing our love before it could have started,
There could probably be worse ways to learn to cry.
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