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Hunter Mars
Poems
Feb 2019
Dandelion
A small hand grasped my own as I looked over to meet young, innocent, inquisitive eyes.
“What is love?”
Taken aback, my eyes moved about vacantly as I inwardly searched for a meaning that meant something.
Smiling, I gently squeezed the little fingers intermingled with mine, and softly whispered,
"It is everything."
x.x H. Mars
(I wrote this because of you, my little)
Written by
Hunter Mars
22/F/in the tree line
(22/F/in the tree line)
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Lillian May
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