Lost Chance

January 14, 2012
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Soft and sweet with eyes of gold,
Race to find a trick in mold,
All bet on him alone,
But not as much as shone.

One who grasps less than those,
An whose name no one knows,
Loves the one who plays so nice,
More than the heart of ice.

Scanning the crowd of silly cheers,
The eyes of gold sadly here's,
Gaze to the one who plays sweet,
but is pushed to another beat.

In the hurry she has to leave,
Sad to hear her bird heave,
Tears and sorrow fall down its cheeks,
With no notice of him it weeps.

No word is heard of that bird again,
Eyes of gold forget of when,
that flower left was the one,
who he'd love more than the sun.

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