(from In the Shadow of my Pen: A Collection of Poetry and Prose)
The sacrifices we make for love will often cause us pain.
But we make them anyway.
We think that love conquers all, and they will change.
Only years later do we realise that we lost ourselves along the way.
The clock is now ticking.
We have less time to waste as we remember the good old days,
when we were young and so desperate to become adults.
If we knew then what we know now, would we have made the same sacrifices for love?
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In the Shadow of my Pen 