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I suffer with it day and night,
and its not a laughing matter.
Leaves my mind seeking the light,
causing my poor heart to shatter.
Denying hearts crafted of gold,
bidding them a bitter farewell.
Seeking the one brazen and bold,
standing near the gates of hell.
It strikes right around puperty,
and doctors can not find a cure.
That is when it affected me,
when I was innocent and pure.
Excitement is the attraction,
luring my silly mind astray.
Mancho man brings satisfaction,
leading my foolish heart away.
It often leaves me feeling dumb,
and a little weak in the knees.
Stricken by the bad boy syndrome,
a dreaded terminal disease.
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