I long for simpler times,
where I thought nothing more
Than love is that sweet thing
that makes a rich man of the poor.
How time stripped me of innocence,
and pain shed my shell of ignorance
Soon delicate hearts taste pain like the rest..
Love makes us fools sick with ourselves!
It’s belief that is lost with every ache
We regret what we gave; curse those who take
Eros, is your golden shot worth the risk?
When so many hits are still a miss..
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