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To My Two Sons
The might have been
Runs hand in hand with the guilt.
My love for you
Was a late bloomer.
When you needed me most,
I was not there.
What is there left to say?
I wish, I wish?
But enough of wishing,
Except, let me say just this once,
Had I hated myself less,
Perhaps, I could have loved you more. |
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