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Click hereBy Ianthe
My school papers litter the floor,
your glass of wine has spilt.
The affection that I crave so badly,
you give only when in guilt.
How I used to long for your affection,
but I will never fit your standard of perfection.
Author's Note: Hello all! This is my first poem and most likely my last, but as always your comments and votes are most appriciated! :)