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Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #844615
Wishful thinking.
Someday

Love, doubt me not, for I am true,
to the promise yet unfulfilled; I hold still to you.
In a time before this, true lovers were we;
Sweet and real in trust, and firm faith in me,
Love, hold on to that word unbroken.
The lips of your gutter-flower have spoken.

© Copyright 2004 Nirvana Rockford (nirvana_r at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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