Unknown , Untouched Yet Played
The nights became her way to dwell
In love unseen her living hell
Just to watch and hear him play
Upon the strings in hands his lay
Hers was he to have her way
or better said in song she swayed
In arms that held his wooden love
In arms not hers wishing he was
She stood close enough to see fingers
Quick, long, that strummed every note upon her body
Passion grew with her he picked this night
A melody of her and him
She was unknown, untouched yet played
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poetry2231 |
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