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Feb 2010
Your boss, the bank teller, the flower lady too,
I'm consumed with such rejection, because they can touch you.
The mailman, the baker, the cars that pass by,
The gift they recieve when they look in your eyes.
I would give up the world, just to feel your face once,
But fate ignores me. she must be out to lunch
eileen mcgreevy
Written by
eileen mcgreevy
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