Last Love
B
Barry Middleton
0
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First love is enchanting,
to temp us with allure
and passion in a kiss,
yet never is secure.
Seasons come and go,
but we can never block
relentless destiny,
the ticking of the clock.
Love grants a parting kiss.
But love which is forgone,
brings the chill of winter
that we must face alone.
For final love is memory
of one we can't forget,
a last dance at midnight,
and ghostly pale regret.
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