Love
But as the breeze whirls,
As the heart dwells,
Love will grow where it ought to.
I'll do everything I have to
Is it true true love is hiding among the hills?
She doesn't even know how I feel.
I penned a poem to her,
Pray me, softens her heart
Emmanuel Shadrach
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 12/27/2020
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