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Fall For Me

Fall For Me

1 min
368


You say, thy would write me love songs

You say, thy would sing me sonnets


I say, thee nice but naive

I say, thee know not love if thee know not hate


Stain not clean paper

With fantasies of ink


For I be hatred, personified

Therefore, my love, though rare, is of purest kind


As for thee my dear

Thou art not worthy of it


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