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Your world has changed irreparably
even if in a manner long anticipated...
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If I warbled alike a dove
and fluted - tunes of love...
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Don't promise me a future
Don't lay down hope for me...
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It was born
when I drowned completely in your...
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She painted tinsel in the dark
as demons stripped her soul...
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as I read your letters-
your words...
-
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I
caught...
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Perhaps I have become
immune to inclement...
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They scrawl their ink upon a twill
where love and sadness often spill...
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I never heard her voice, still it sounds to me
like...
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By Ben Pickard and Maple Tree
A small acorn, from my nature soul...
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I whisper thoughts
while my coffee goes cold...