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Jun 2018
My pages speak nothing of love
For me it is sinful to glorify thereof
My journals are true to emotion
Love is absent and forbidden

The only traces are unrequited;
The remorseless: skillfully blighted

But he has cleared all heretofore:
He has rebuilt the love I'd bore
And come to me after a marathon
Jovial to have crowned me paragon

Now my pages can dance and wheel
And no longer share my solitary ordeal
My first love poem in two years.
Written by
Neuvalence  17/M
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