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A Short Letter (Limerick) by Ranger

Today a note came through my door From a friend I've know since long before She said "let us not fight For that would not be right Yours truly now and for evermore" I puzzled it through in my head Thrice more its contents I read I endeavoured to try To write in reply "I don't hate you but love you instead" I wish I were Byron or Chaucer But I would not want words to force her Lest we should forget What it means to regret For at night these words seem so much coarser

<~> 28-Dec-02/12:07 AM
no way. they seem smooth at night. in the morning is when you brainsmack yourself and groan, jeez, what was i thinkin'?
you were drinkin' not thinkin', my friend.
that being said, this is sweetly done.




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