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May 2015
He laid her gently
Upon a bed of roses
But forgot to warn her
About the thorns.
He showered her
With luxurious gifts
But forgot to tell her
They were on loan.
He painted her world
In glorious scarlet
But forget to mention
The colour would fade.

Like a thief in the night,
He stole her heart

But forgot to take care of it
Written by
niamh  Ireland
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