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Union

An organised mess,

No train of thought,

Just swirls and swoops, 

Campaign abort 

 

If ironed and pressed,

A chain no longer, 

Confused and tangled,

But maid of honour

 

A taste of love,

So now you see,

Instilled in us,

A fantasy

 

Exchange our hearts, 

Entrusting me,

Through pain feel power,

Uncomfortably. 

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