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The last poem
My Grapie died, all along I lied
About a love that did not exist
Just fantasy I made up of a girl
I could love, someone I can't resist
My blood has run out as they dripped
all about and dried up on the ground
I promised I'd never spill tears forever
I'll cry without making a sound
Why is it so painful why so shameful
that I thought I had a chance
I know she won't forgive me for
creating my Grapie, forever not even a glance
The fantasy had to have an ending.
