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Golden love


Dark and cold

the days grow old.

But not my love

for it is gold.

I put pen to paper,

but the words do not flow.

For they are words I do not know.

 

My love is sweet.

My love is bright.

when  I think of love,

I feel so right.

 

Take this joy and this day,

think of all you want to say.

Hold it tight, hold it close

and think of whom you love the most.

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Comments (1)

eyesoffire
<p>awesome poem</p>

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