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Clodagh

Those are pools of deepest blue
That linger in the eyes of you,
That tell of cold simplicity
When it comes to the likes of me.
Or are there depths within your soul?
Have tender years taken their toll?
Plainly ouspoken - Nothing there
Yet countless aeons in your hair.
A pleasant face so good for games
But maybe not for my hearts dreams.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2012
About this poem:
a girl lied to me about how old she was once. The more I read it the more it reeks of paedophilia but it's got nothing to do with that. It's just that, she was nearly seventeen.

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on Nov 2012
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Last Viewed: Jul 16

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