When I joke
It's like a hundred grim stings in my arch
And it seems
Like it won't let me down this fair March
And the beams
Of the sun, their rays seek their way to me
And they gleam
In a wide array of waves at sea
And I mean
All that I say and all that I do
And I may
Buy a bouquet of flowers just for you
If I say
That I won't be home again until June
It's okay
Just sit and sway and watch the flowers bloom
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© CyberD.org 2025
Keeping the world since 2004.
© CyberD.org 2025
Keeping the world since 2004.
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