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Christie Moore

April 27, 2015

Few efforts have been as futile

As my love for Christie Moore.

I loved her more than most girls since,

And more than any girl before.  

We had class together in fifth grade,

But seventh grade I fell hard.

I tried to woo her with roses

And romantic words from the Bard.  

She didn’t fall for me one bit.

Back then I couldn’t see why,

But my hindsight vision is clearer.

I see why she would deny.  

I reeked of desperation,

Although my heart was pure,

And I wasn’t much to look at,

Nor was I very secure.  

Seeing her now I grow wistful.

My love for her never quite died.

Like her beauty, and memories of her,

My feelings for her I’ll abide.

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