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May 2012
How could you not see what was put in front of you,
You choose to be blind to disregard what is true,
For it seems I am nothing but a toy for your pleasure,
You never opened up your love your golden treasure,
Now to this day you wonder why I'm so cold,
Is because my love is forever on withhold.
Written by
Mitchell R Millett
768
   Philia and ---
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