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Click hereI poured my hear out
She pored over my words
Perhaps thinking, "Poor boy,
so desperate to love..."
At the slightest encouragement,
why do I give so quickly,
love so easily?
Better to hide behind
pretensions of indifference?
Better to let the fruits of emotion
wither and die on the vine?
Unrequited,
unfinished,
as unfermented wine
Your Poem was mentioned on the thread
'New Poems Reviews'
thanks for the journey~