I used to glance slyly, from beneath my drawing book,
at those deep, lost eyes that lured me, and my smile;
though they faded often, and were lost, seldom found —
how I would come early, to the rise, just to see that angel of “deep, dark eyes”…
I used to glance slyly, from beneath my drawing book,
at those deep, lost eyes that lured me, and my smile;
though they faded often, and were lost, seldom found —
how I would come early, to the rise, just to see that angel of “deep, dark eyes”…
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