Monday, April 12, 2010

Boy, Does It Hurt.



She has, but Hopes, Dreams and Wishes.
Every now and then, she'll think of the Boy who made her dream.
Its choral refrains are now but, those of a requiem.

She smiles, ever so faintly,
It guises her pain.
To let the Boy go,
A trickle to deign.

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