There is so much I could say,
So many poems I could write.
Too many stories could be noted
On behalf of this delight.
But pain is imminent now,
I've been through this before.
I tried too many times,
To open this same door.
Falling in love is easy,
Hitting the ground is not.
Especially when you find that love
was what you should have fought.
So for me to write of happiness,
Allow joy to fill my page,
Is to know I'm only hurting myself.
For soon that joy will blaze.
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