| A forgiving pushed into |
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A thought, a sigh,
Accepting a lie
Knowingly following
A thread self-tiring.
I am too mellow
To every fellow,
When will I let
My mind be set?
Or will I forever
Be wandering weather,
Genial and forgiving,
At the slightest pleading.
I let myself down,
My heart is ready brown
With years of patience
To those with no conscience.
What is wrong with me?
Do I have no will to be free?
I wish to have less sorrow,
But my heart, I know, would then be hollow.
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Posted by Bubbly on 2008-05-06 09:03:58 | Rating: n/a | Views: 39
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