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He whispered once, sweetly, softly,
holding me in strong, safe arms.
He spoke of my, freely, fondly,
and of him I dreamt, we laughed, we danced
He laughed with me, so boldly, brashly,
and held me in strong, safe arms.

He whispers now, swiftly, sternly,
gripping me in strong, stern fists.
He speaks not of me, no hope, no life,
and from him I reel, I flinch, we crash.
He now laughs at me, cold and cruelly,
whilst striking me with strong, safe arms.

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