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  Maria Guzvic

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Your words can be more cruel
Than a cut by finest knife
They twist and turn my innards
And cause me so much strife

Not sweet things, purely taunting
They bedevil my head and heart
Though because I am so stubborn
I ache when we are apart

What kick do you get from doing this
Is it pleasurable to witness my pain
One of these days I will have the courage
To walk out.  I won't let you do it again




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