Your Reality
"In my hand is a pen that will write a poem of me and you; The ink flows down into a dark puddle; Just move your hand, write the way into his heart; But in this world of infinite choices; What will it take just to find that special day?"
"In my hand is a pen that will write a poem of me and you; The ink flows down into a dark puddle; Just move your hand, write the way into his heart; But in this world of infinite choices; What will it take just to find that special day?"
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