FR
On this, the longest
Day of the year,
Sprawled
On my deckchair,
At great length
And all along,
Forlorn,
And for so long,
I've been longing
For this piece of
Envisioned,
Well-deserved
Happiness
To come
And that in time will,
At long last,
Come true —
And to last
In my reality.
© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.
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