how a stroke of her hair,
can leave me impaired.
I'd run a thousand miles
If I knew that at the finish line
I'd witness the gift of her smile.
I've raced her race,
left me displaced,
sampling a bitter taste.
She's moved on,
and I'm a good friend,
with a shoulder to lend,
for every tear she sheds.
For I know that when her heart is aching,
so is mines,
she's my eternal valentine.
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