The first
time I sang a love song
Was not in
that typical setting of a full moon night
With flowy
Victorian gowns and black bows
Dominating a
scene by the lake
Just a
normal day out in the woods
When the
dried leaves crunched with my steps
And I knew
no one was there
To hear me
croon a futile song
Learnt from
an orphaned child
Who knew
nothing more than the song
To sing to
his little siblings when
He had to
make them sleep without a meal
And as I sat
pitching high and low
I could feel
my heart crave
For
something more than just the abstraction
Of a futile
song escaping my mouth
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