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Post by Tin Man on Aug 22, 2005 10:50:54 GMT -5
In solitude I ever more exist, Laughing sadly as fare-thee-well she kissed. Our ended love is my hysteria, Veiled beneath a tin man’s polished panels. Every instant on mine her lips are pressed - Years more added to my purgatory. Only the return of the one I miss, Uniting us again, clears out the mist Assailing my heart. My dementia Never slows from growing, writing annals Generated as my clock comes to rest. I created this, my plotless story, Erring in my pleasure to earn pain. Gentle torture; I will not love again!
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