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You, the image of perfection,
That I wanted to adore,
Until I saw reality
Which causes me to abhor1
The perfection that you appeared
To have mastered in each form.
But that was just an illusion,
Like the heart I thought was warm.
For truly did you deceive,
Giving me the wrong impression
By causing me to believe
Long before I bought this store to
Have plenty of time with you,
And subsequently burned it down
You should have told me that you were
Plastic and not acting coy3.
All this time I thought you flirted,
Now bringing you back...
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