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Youth taught me love was like a slow, gentle, misting
rain,
Only to realize later my life's ultimate blunder.
I had her love in the grasp of my hands, two hearts
interwoven,
I walked away from the roaring thunder.
Each evening at dusk I hear the gentle rain,
And it carries me back in time.
She had found her seperate life, knowing her love was
once mine.
Everything this man had hoped for,
Is replaced by enduring pain and wonder.
So I listen and hope for, again and again,
The sweet music that soothes my soul, the sound of that roaring thunder.
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