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Gabriella Moore Jul 2016
To be relied upon
But to have no reliance.
Underappreciated.

To give
But to not receive.
Underappreciated.

To forgive and forget
But to be forgotten yourself.
Underappreciated.

To make time up
But to revive no seconds back.
Underappreciated.

To give affection
But to receive nothing but a smile.
Underappreciated.

To give faith
But to never be beilived.
Underappreciated.
Gabriella Moore Jul 2016
You were the moon to me,
the creators you have created.
The damage you conceal.

You were the light in the dark sky.
On the foggiest of nights.
Oh, so it seemed.

You were a star to me:
A dislightened spark, yet still visible.
A thousand to be seen, except only one.

You were the leaves to me:
beautiful, pure and vibrant.
But, when Autumn came,
Browned showed, you drifted away.

You were a white rose to me:
bright, bold and wise.
When the frost struck so did your
Bitterness and spite.

Only then did I see the oblivion
you have become...
You WERE to me.

— The End —