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Posted on October 18, 2019 by poeeternal

Thoughts

I pick at my thoughts like a flower;
He loves me, he loves me not,
He loves me, maybe another hour.

© Delia Ross. 2019

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Posted in micropoetry, PoeEternal, poetry, WritingTagged devotion, longing, love, micropoem, micropoetry, PoeEternal, poem, poems, poetry, regrets, waiting

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