There he stands, full of contempt with ire in the voice he speaks Telling me of his broken heart of how my love has caused him weak. He'd entered my world with a smile and a spirit, known only as pure Then my passion for him - though he admired induced pain, he can no longer endure. I found there were no words, no dreams that I could not, in him confide Now he's my lover, my friend no longer despite everything I have tried. I now fear the hatred he holds for me knowing that my love took its' toll For, he has stolen not, but rather had taken what I had offered from the core of my soul. And ashamed I feel, for what I have done for destroying the goodness in him Without him in my future - even as a friend my happiness can only seem grim. My one true love's but a broken heart and for the sorrow I've caused him - I am ill For, I hope he can hear my heart when it says as of this day, I love him...still.
Reason for writing:
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