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Click hereLove lost is an open wound, in which hurt bleeds forth,
But anger and doubt stanch the wound letting it scab.
Yet for each call or contact of the once love, it reopens,
Bringing forth more hurt before it closes once more.
However each time this happens the wound is healed farther,
The hurt stops sooner and the wound is closed quicker.
Until the wound is mended, the skin whole once more,
Only now a scar lies upon the once unbroken skin, in reminder.