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My heart is atremble
with hideous nervousness.
My mouth speaks many words,
of futility. Senseless.
With longing well hidden
I gaze upon her lovely face.
Yet when we are alone,
my trembling heart doth quickly race.
How may I ever ask her
to be my one and only love
when I so fear failure
that I'm beyond help from above.
Perhaps this poem shall show her
that despite my accursed fear,
whom I want to be my one love,
is she, whom I hold truly dear.
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