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They often ask me how I could still like you
Or, even, how I could so long ago.
It's hard to say just how, or why, I like you,
Or how I've never even told you so.

It started in a classroom last September.
I saw you sitting, new, upon your chair
And straight 'way I liked your every feature.
However hard I tried, I would but stare.

It started to develop from a liking
To turn into a love so strong and true _
And still, a whole year later, when I see you
I can desire no other, dearer, view.

But still you do not know my heart's deep yearning _
That you should even notice that I'm here.
I wish that you could read my thoughts and feelings
And know, within your heart, that they're sincere.

I love you - though my friends all think me childish,
Indulging in a youngster's harmless crush.
They cannot see that this idea is stupid
Or, how'd I love a year and love so much?

Just answer me one question, "Do you love me,
Or do I turn your golden heart to 'off'?"
Although you probably will say the latter,
I wish there could be love between us both.



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natf
Nat S Ford
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