I always gave you my all,
In the harsh state of mine.
You failed to recognize it,
Labeling me as a petty thief.
Who would have loved thus,
A robe of satin or white wanderlust.
I did so every moment,every day,
Yet you went away and away.
It was not my mind's want,
It was in fact my heart's call.
To be seen by your shining eyes,
To take a rest upon your lap.
I did not realize my fault,
My behavior was downright sad.
I was the dirt of your stomping feet,
Hoping fervently to be rose of your hair.

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