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A Poem by Alex Vandool

I feel as side as two times four....We separate and I adore....This
person secret goddess kind....This cool magician....Eyes to blind with
hope of something never found. I can't contain it - Up and
round....You're it. I recognized that quick. And every word must make
you sick. You knew it then. You know it now....All the others reason:
HOW? It's so the same....And I'm OK....I play the game from fading day
of half-gone youth. Remember when....The colour meant as much again. Oh!
No. Oh! Yes. Confusion bleats. Your face is not obsession's
feat....It's love to love. And hate too late. You know the rest. You are
the best. And one more thing - Your
perfect style. I love you most when you give kind from out of all. The
simple mind....To say that's that, and all the hours....Are only sand to
shift and scour

© 2018 Alex Vandool


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Added on April 9, 2015
Last Updated on October 3, 2018

Author

Alex Vandool
Alex Vandool

Paris, France



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She... She...

A Poem by Alex Vandool