Dear Love,
I've had enough; I'm sick of your sweet song. And though you're tempting, I admit, my will and pride stay strong. You had me 'round your finger for just far too long, and this power you hold over- it's torturous and wrong! I wish no longer to play your game; please, just let me be. For in the end all I find is shame, and you then laugh at me. I wish for you to go away, my heart can take no more. For it seems that you are blind, and sometimes you're a bore. I'm sure others love you, and I intend no pun. But as for me, I'm through with you. Dear Love, we are done!
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