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One poem read, you ask for another - the pen flows and out come my soul.
One has to love and trust to share her soul.
I put my soul in your heart to view my very being.
Afraid to love that much - to share my soul - chancing true love to hold my
soul.
A chance of hurt, of denial, of last hope overcomes with that of joy,
approval, everlasting love.
So my dear, I give you my poems, my soul. |
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