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When gazing into your eyes I see fear.

Fear that is an instinct.

Intuition that’s telling you life is brief.

Brisk as the sunset that poses behind you.

Fearful of not your own, but your child.

Scared of what I might steal from you.

Strange how my mother would act the same.

You and me, we are the same.

Petrified for love that may be taken.

Not by me,

But by cruel circumstances.

By detestation,

To my and forever,


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