I wonder:
Life appears good
With no complain
Along the line
Of a past dream
But, with no joy.
Enemies of no account
Everyone nice
And no woe brought
With hope unfulfilled;
Yet, deemed a loner.
Promises set alright
As dreams
Or reality could wish
And no foul by Fate
Still without love.
Why?
Saturday, May 30, 2009
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