Teenage Eyes 3

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I sleep on a wet pillow,
My heart aches every night when i lie,
I sleep and wake with a misty eye,
My elbow is soaked with tears and regrets,
Woe and pain my chest begets.
O' my love butterfly has flown away,
It has been three months but to me a day.
My wounds remain pristine like wet clay.
Her love though stale remains  fresh upon my buds,
I sleep on the trim of her eyes and wake with better cuts,
Time has failed me with its healing portions,
My poor eyes tote this twinge oceans,
But soft my heart; i pray you not cry,
Not under this merry a sky,
Mask your agony with a smile,
Dance and fool fate awhile

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