Untitled Poem

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inlove

A strange kind of sickness has come over me
It must be…love
I feel sudden urges to write poetry
It must be…love
When she takes down her posters of Man.U
And replaces them all with photos of you
It must be…love
I’ve been seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses
Hardly noticing as another week passes
It must be…love
The other day I popped out and bought her flowers
Then we chatted on the telephone for hours
It must be…love
Friday, in the front row of the cinema
I grabbed her and started removing her bra
It must be lust!

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