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If love is a game to you,

I choose not to play.
Not a dystopian world we are living in.
That's just our imagination and way of thinking.
If the world were dystopian,
We would have been dreaming of utopia to live in.
Maybe it's not the world that's broken, but our view of it.
Rain falls when
The clouds get heavy. I
Walk with my umbrella, which the wind turned
Inside out. Droplets fall around
My head, and I
Remember when I was a child and got
To play in the puddles. Then I became sick
And cuddled in blankets. Mother puts a hand to
My forehead and smiles at my
Sneeze. I drink hot soup, which warms my stomach.
Now I wetly plod along, and
My soul smiles as I
Recall the rubber ball that I threw
So high it seemed to touch the rainbow that arced down.
write me into your solar system,
tell me I look like the stars;
the same ones you fall in love with every night.
but instead, gaze at my heart and fall in love with me.
And on the last day,
like the final puzzle piece,
you disappeared and left me searching
But your name is just another love poem I continue struggling to write
let us learn about the building blocks of our love;
just let our atoms collide
find me in the plana
Juice of an orange
Spilled over the dark rain clouds
Last coral sunset
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