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If you are
too busy
or in great hurry
don't write poetry!
Many I did meet
each claimed to be a hero
sadly almost all
ended in zero
Only they can open the lock
they hold the key
if it is lost
don't look for me
It does not bode well
  love that requires reminding
  romance has long vanished
  love is withering
The fire of life
might fade a while
it will be relighted
and will never die
my heavenly abode
cooking different dishes
smiling family.
The language is the heart of the poem.
Let me write
what I may--not in riddle
I might not be right
but would cause no trouble!
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