For Nette Onclaud's Drop The Cliche Poetry Contest/ Topic #6/ Dec. 11, 2025
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A cheery cherry popsycle was I when my flavor you savored with passion. Then you left without even goodbye. You, with warm lips! Where went your compassion? Half of me remains now in this freezer where first you found me – loveless and alone. I, once your favorite love-taste pleaser, lie unseen– as cold as an Arctic stone.
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