Unfair, the moments and their call sublime,
Shaken, the spirit in the vessel of time,
Words now fail me, I care not to write
Unwritten letters on blank pages fight.
I look to describe her with words aware,
But seek a word much fairer than 'fair'
Much better than 'beauty' can ever dare say,
And therein my words have lost their way.
Hurt, is her heart and the pride it houses,
Attempts that worsen the fire that douses
By itself, if time would let her just see
She's love, laughter, she's spirit, she's glee.
...
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