What a pass Has come to be, When every lass I see I think not How sweet, How kind, How warm And winsome May she be, Nor how much love Or care or fun We might share. NoI wonder What demands She would make, What hurt And ill and bother It would be To share our lives. I suppose I've sunk deep In selfish misery, Deeper even Than I already was, When my query Simply is: What's in it for me? What would I Have to give? How much pain Would I Have to bear To share Some small bit Of love?
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