Is this my lot or will luck be my fate,
You are not forgot but it’s a long wait,
You are a charm I’d so like on my arm
But at the moment I struggle with calm
As I am prone to suffer with self-harm
As I miss you so and want you to know
That my loving, loveable love does grow
And I am hoping you reap what I do sow.
I have wrote about three hundred poems about you
That express an unfathomable love and that I’m blue
As my love so true is lonely without us being together
And I know I was a storm to weather but I’m now
better.
When we were a lover to each other I was oh so happier
But I did fret with being ill which to you was a
bitter-pill.
Copyright Andrew Stevenson 05/10/2024
Thank you. Love love, Andrew.
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