Illness and love,
Together their no good,
As I've travelled through life,
Feeling love,
But deep down,
It was nothing but lies,
As they say they care,
But when a tough patch,
They just can not bare,
That they know it's real,
But not ready,
With their feeling so frail,
Their love turns stale,
Trying to leave,
Like where not human,
With no sense of emotion,
Leaving us like a forgotten potion.
By James Aykroyd
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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