Jo Bien Poet Classicism

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nothing but sorrow, nothing but the ache
nothing but memories that whisper your name
nothing but sadness, too severe
nothing but silence is still living here

too many bridges were burned
too many lessons unlearned
no promises to be broken
tender lies sweetly spoken

I couldn't change your heart
I couldn't from the start
I couldn't change your mind
I couldn't be more blind

a tangled, twisted web
intricately woven in red
a love that will not flourish
starves without being nourished

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