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Time
April 4, 2008
The bitter reminder,
Of Seperation's anxiety,
Can be found upon,
A tick or a tock.
For each tick,
My heart stops.
For each tock,
My gut drops.
My stomach beckons,
With dying butterflies,
The pain my heart refuses to bear.
For my heart must remain,
To give to You,
When we meet Again.
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