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Sorrow
I have much sorrow.
Someone took my heart. It they borrowed,
And it they never returned.
In my chest, I have a great, gaping hollow.
For the restoration of my heart, I yearn.
I have much sadness.
Never have I been so joyless.
My heart again I wish to have
To bring an end to my endless blueness.
Its recovery is my only salve.
I live in dolor.
My skin is wan; my cheeks have lost their color.
I’m not right in the head.
The rest of my life has been a blur.
Why couldn’t I have had my heart back instead?

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