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Besotted

Your presence muddles time,

Suspending its consequence

Hours stretch to days

Minutes melt away

Seemingly unconfined

 

But as we are apart

Another shift occurs

Time elapses

Slow as molasses

Ever to be endured

 

And I cannot wait

To be back again

Where never is there late

And time has lost its end.

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Written by
monica-rose
American
Published
Jan 31, 2013
Lines·Words
14·52
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