The poor are fast forgotten,
They outnumber the living, but where are all their bones?
For every man alive there are a million dead.
Has their dust gone into earth that it is never seen?
There should be no air to breathe, with it so thick. No space for wind to blow, nor rain to fall;
Earth should be a cloud of dust, a soil of bones. With no room even, for our skeletons.
- Sacheverell Sitwell, 'Agamemnon's Tomb'
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