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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Animal >> ID #1505736 |
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She is the love of my soul;
winning her heart is my goal. She has the most gentle wings and lands on beautiful things. I try to show my power, but she prefers a flower. A dandelion today, again she flutters away. I woo her from the belfry; she still doesn't notice me. I bring her some tasty bugs; she looks at my gift and shrugs. She desires romance with light. Why doesn't she like the night? Her dance is like a feather. My moves are stiff like leather. I will not give up this hope nor my sweet dream to elope. Till then I will hang around with my head facing the ground.
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