‎Friday, ‎October ‎10, ‎2014

If all the flowers, I painted to you
Has now turned grey..
Let me take the blame for their decay
Cause the one I wanted to give, permanent
You’ve gone too far to receive, I am late
But do not doubt my virtue for you, it was all I gave
But for the hindrance to my wounded love..
Do all the lovers pay for their need and crave.

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