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Mar 2016
For every second I spend weepin',
Father Time he comes a-sweepin',
To put things in order, things in place,
To wipe the tears right off my face.

If only you could trust the time,
You would accept my choice of crime.
My selfish want: To put first- Me,
Above all else, just simply free.

Though I'm no longer yours for keepin',
In my heart, it still lay creepin',
My only regret: The certain haste,
Out of my Mind, my Heart has chased.

Fear not, however, you live in rhyme,
Like blissful days far past their prime.
Deanna M Zarrillo
Written by
Deanna M Zarrillo  Stony Brook, NY
(Stony Brook, NY)   
358
 
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