Cynthia
You never kissed me, never cried,
nor scorned me I if I whitely lied.
You filled my glass and gratified
the hunger of my damaged pride.
You never kissed me, never said
your love would live when I was dead.
You filled my glass and softly fed
a heart from which all hope had fled.
You never kissed me, never made
a promise that in time must fade.
You filled my glass and you forbade
all tendering good fortune paid.
You never kissed me, but you gave
the love I shall forever crave.
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