Young love, hand holding, and silly notes,I'd been struck by the baby that floats.It was natural. I knew nothing at all. I was in love with her then, Now only with my pen. She could be to blame.I was never the same; The spark that caused this flame. It's been a fire that's grown and often times dimmed That lighted the parts of me unknown; The darkness in me had thinned. It continued as a force that found me wide awake in the middle of the night. It followed me throughout my days that hadn't seemed so bright. It was as if my heart was strung to a kite, and it was the uncertain wind that kept it in flight.I live in the beauty of the world taking notes on lasting impressions that become my timeline, And my stomach many times has curled At sights and sounds that have inspired somber lines. Roses are red, violets are blue it began And from then on my life ran.
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