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Thursday, March 13, 2014

Often said, cliche

Her eyes, frantic, sought out,
The only one that mattered,
Fleetingly, an instance of doubt,
Her breath seemed to falter.
 
He then came into sight,
Clothed in complete perfection,
Was it, in tiny armor, her knight?
As she soaked in, her elation.
 
All of seven pounds he lay,
Swaddled in oodles of love,
Bawling his little lungs away.
Life now changes and how!
 

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