First Rose A Heart Of Youthful Year Was Yearning, Crying Out The Pain; The Burning Tears Would E’er Remain Until An Answer From The Man Would See Them Die. A Sympathetic Mirror Blessed Her Softened Up The Curves, Caressed Her Skin To Help Regain A Calm – Assuage A Heaving Breast And Blushing Eye. And Through A Struggling Mind, A Chiming: Someone At The Door; The Timing Perfect And Exquisite In The Reconciliation Of Her Woes

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