Since the beginning of time,
I relentlessly yearn to rhyme,
For someone I put near my heart,
That's how all my stories did start.
Singing to myself merry and free,
Racing through success unaware in love's lee,
Never did I think false likes would avenge so wry,
As long as the butterlies did make me fly.
But now those butterflies are long gone,
And life feels aimless, so very wrong,
I can’t even rerun the past that lightly,
For there's no point, the future tells me slightly.
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