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Promise
Those words strike a cord,
a cord so true.
A cord so familiar,
it sounds so much like you.
Did I leave you behind,
I can't really tell.
For in this landscape,
there is no more wishing well.
A good thing or bad,
let time unveil itself,
Hopefully in time, I stand before you,
as a person of wealth.
poem
by
Mandy Lee
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