I saw thy awed eyes loudly doubting me
Isled, raw thy flawed sighs howled, in silence yelled;
Eyed flawed, awful lies ruining me, thee
Thy augured thoughts then soundly themselves quelled.
Oh, boy! Thy odd smile augured luck and hope
All ploys they plotted then lost, went awry;
On those quite awing days thy songs my dope
Did mold me and my each belief gone dry.
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So shall we both give it one more real try
To halt the process of frustration, hate?
Forsake, therefore, the thoughts that make us fry
Allowing both of us to stall each date?
Oh, but thy soul has not bled being dead;
All thoughts that you held dear hence can’t be read.
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