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Eyre
A chasm of love and care,
She refuses to share.
In this polluted air,
How could one dare?
With not a minute to spare and being there,
She needs not a declare.
Yet she sits on a chair,
With a wistful stare....
She refuses to share.
In this polluted air,
How could one dare?
With not a minute to spare and being there,
She needs not a declare.
Yet she sits on a chair,
With a wistful stare....
