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Too Soon
Maybe it is too
Soon
To write a good poem
About her
Oh I can put down a line
Or two
But not a one will be better than
That roses are red
And that they make the sky
Look like you
Clouds and your eyes hidden
There
I won't be able to write about you for a good long while
I promise
I know that would make her smile
But i don't really want to think about that
