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Updated on October 29, 2013

A Young Cry

My Passion is Gone

And I’m only nineteen

Sometimes it returns

But only the memories

The thoughts I’ve wasted

For men such as yourself

The love I’ve tasted

No good for me to dwell

Dwell I shall not do

Ever since I met you

My Passion is Gone

And I’m only nineteen

I wish I could paint a picture

Of all my desires

For if had a picture,

I could at least have

Something to hold on to

But everything is fleeting,

It seems, I have no command

Of such things that fly by me

My life is chaotic

And yet, so very well planned

I blindly walk through


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    • Jodah profile image

      John Hansen 3 years ago from Queensland Australia

      Lovely poem accompanied by attractive flowers. Well done ohamilton. Voted up.