The house on the lane- I know its there- I don’t want to know its there.
The closed door- its open- I don’t want to know it is.
The flying curtains- they are still- I don’t want to know they are.
The blooming, white flower- it’s wilted- I don’t want to know it is.
The blank papers- they are filled- I don’t want to know they are.
The happy song- it speaks of a sweet pain- I don’t want to know it is.
The figure at the window- I know who it is- I don’t want to know who it is.
The tears in the eyes- they are flowing- I want to know they are being held back.
The face- it’s shadowed with grief- I want to know its smiling.
The hands- they are trembling- I want to know they are stiff.
The heart- it is bleeding in pain- I want to know it is escalated in joy.
The eyes- they are closed in a deep sorrow- I want to know they are shining in excitement.
The mind- it has drowned in a tyranny of grief- I want to know it is soaring in happiness.
The world- it’s frowning on me- I want to know it is grinning at me.
The closed door- its open- I don’t want to know it is.
The flying curtains- they are still- I don’t want to know they are.
The blooming, white flower- it’s wilted- I don’t want to know it is.
The blank papers- they are filled- I don’t want to know they are.
The happy song- it speaks of a sweet pain- I don’t want to know it is.
The figure at the window- I know who it is- I don’t want to know who it is.
The tears in the eyes- they are flowing- I want to know they are being held back.
The face- it’s shadowed with grief- I want to know its smiling.
The hands- they are trembling- I want to know they are stiff.
The heart- it is bleeding in pain- I want to know it is escalated in joy.
The eyes- they are closed in a deep sorrow- I want to know they are shining in excitement.
The mind- it has drowned in a tyranny of grief- I want to know it is soaring in happiness.
The world- it’s frowning on me- I want to know it is grinning at me.
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