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Mar 2020
A sweater I put on, worn and worn.
To keep me safe, to keep me warm.
The outside soft, the inside thorns.
Tempting is, my love forlorn.

The sweater stays, ripped and torn.
For lost labors that I mourn.
A love has died, a love is born.
Hopeless is, my love forlorn.

To be so close, yet all so far.
I cannot reach, yet here you are.
I cannot leap, the jump's too hard.
Forlorn love tears us apart...

Disdainful tears, that mark my cheeks.
My helpless world, is far too bleak.
Without my strength I seem so meek.
Forlorn love makes me feel weak.

A sweater I put on, worn and worn.
To keep me safe, to keep me warm.
Love is pain, and love is scorn.
Wretched is, my love forlorn.
Isabella
Written by
Isabella  18/F/USA
(18/F/USA)   
317
 
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