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| Half a century passed. |
Unveiled and happy,
You posed in the studio,
White roses trailing ribbons,
And posted it today,
Fifty years later,
A hollow in my chest.
It wasn't me. Scroll down.
Loves and failures
Evened out;
I'd rather be one up.
Who I thought you were,
Who you thought I was,
We are.
We are.
Was and were still hurt.
