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09/26/18 at 10:44PM
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Poetry
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See more by MFish
No matter what, you have said before,
My love for you, makes me implore
And pray to God, "help me here".
In spite of this disease, so near,
That robs of you, all your ability,
As your memory, is a futility.
I know that we are not alone,
As long as we are, still at home.
