The quaver some would savor
playing out upon your lips
The words I’ve often heard
always near and well equipped
The sheen that can be seen
in your slowly welling eyes
A voice that shakes or softly breaks
as it treads ‘tween wails and cries
My heart once wrenched within your clench
for the tears you freely spread
But I’m not sure I can endure
forgiving you again
The Mewriginal 
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