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Trouble Is
I had to let her go.
That's real love you know.
When all our bells had rung.
And the famous fat lady had sung.
I gave her to the breeze.
New sunrise
And
New start.
Trouble is
The keys.
She still holds to my heart.
Maybe she'll return.
I guess I must be strong.
I watch my Rome just burn.
Accompanied by a song.
I fall down to my knees.
Kiss the moon as I depart.
Trouble is
The keys
She still holds to my heart.
poem
by
Kevin East
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