El de Lune
(She bathes her face in tears from the moon
Yet somehow the surface stays dry
Saw her someplace, the late afternoon
Was just morning enough to cry
(I know she may not see me now
I see the way and I am blind
My heart is broken like a vow
Like something that you cannot find
Saw her someplace, the late afternoon
Her face was bathed with tears from the moon,)
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2024-01-03 at 17:52
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