Consolations #3

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Sleeping alone, oh how I sigh,
Fondling the unknown bet,
The tender feeling still nigh,
Then came home, dear Regret.

Will the beckoning be heard?
Will I even be let?
Tightly holding on,
My dear little Regret.

Onwards the morrow,
Marching I fret,
Hanging by my side,
Dear, dear Regret.

Looking downwards the road,
Only solution I met,
Freedom amongst the sky,
So long, Regret.

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