The day you shared with someone other, a little bit I feel of curse.
The day you sang a little song, and felt my heart right and wrong.
You talked with a happy little smile, with not a cloud in sight.
The day you worked with what you had, and what had seemed like only weeds.
There were some of flowers at your door? Today you would love them a little more.
The day you complained a little less, and in the giving of myself and I forgot my weirdness.
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