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June 25th, 2002, 06:52 AM
#1
Senior Member
poem: To Be Her Shadow
For all things good and dead
Each night I rest upon my bed
Well.., if rest I can attain
With these hellful thoughts of pain
She teased me and my mind
But quickly left me behind
I mourn for what could have been
But that only comes now and then
When I'm alone I dream of her
As she was, wrapped in fake fur...
what is love but contempt for hate?
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