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The Art of Poetry.
Or Forever We Shall Stand Alone
© January 22, 1987 by Paul M. Combs, Jr. All Rights Reserved

Time has gone since last we met,
I was wrong, I’d like to forget.
Why must we live in anger and fear?
I’d like to make up but can’t get near.
Your defensive strategy has dampened all hopes.
This horrible tragedy, I can no longer cope.
Why must we live like this?
Living in turmoil and abyss
This truth is real,
Yet the dream, I still conceal,
To be with you once again,
This time, for all eternity until the end
Let’s make up and straighten things out.
Or forever we shall stand alone.