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About This Poem
The Last Sonnet
No more lunches that we share,
no more talking on the telephone.
No more stories to compare,
our secrets now are known.
No more trips to the Derby,
our final bet has been placed.
No more trips to the sea,
all our dreams have been erased.
No house where we will share a life,
that's all gone for good.
No asking you to be my wife,
even though I wish I could.
This is the last sonnet written for you.
Setting myself free, is what I must do.
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