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The Old Market
(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

The Old Market

Poem By Vincent Onyeche

If something one does is claimed to be loved,
But visited to do on a part-time basis.
If not delayed or procrastinated.
And only when the thought of it,
Happens to be mentioned while in conversation...
That begins a stirring of temporary motivation!
This to do,
Is not love.

This to do,
Is an attempt...
To make and gain a long lasting impression,
On someone else in the midst of a confession.
Who admits they have remain devoted,
To that which may have gone to others unnoticed.
But brings to them a peace of mind and happiness.
Without an emphasis stated to that which is loved.

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