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A 25 year old poem

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I was at my Mom's Sunday, and she was up in the attic cleaning out stuff. I was going through some boxes, and I found a book of poetry from my 10th grade writing class.

Flipping through it, I came across this one.

Now, to set this up, I was 15, and stood at the bus stop every morning. There was one girl I had a secret crush on. The real deal. No eat, no sleep, lay awake at night staring at the ceiling crush. So anyway, I waited for her every morning. Her name was Julie.

Dawn's bouquet, still fully dew'n,

Morn's eye subdues the mist.

My heart, she'll crush afore the noon,

Ah, sweet dagger she doth twist!

Her offhand glance, I hold revere,

The scent of auburn tress.

Can fill my eye with longing tear,

Aching, my soul doth press.

With a word, my heart be strewn,

A laugh, and I am rich.

To smile at me, both curse and boon,

In her lilt, my breath doth hitch.

To whisper close, to taste her ear,

My heart to her, confess.

Her face to touch, her skin so near,

My soul she doth caress.

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