Let there be a welcome mat,
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For I am no more inside to welcome thee.
Yet I am outside in the world of my life;
For the ghosts that pass me do all but live;
And their minds waver with skill.
For I, with the wings of gold;
And the kiss of life;
Bring my berth to yours;
And I set you free for the end,
Which will never come.
I bet that cost money.