I wonder if she reads them,
The poems he writes about her.
I wonder if she feels a pang,
Imagining the lines writ for another.
Then he shakes his head,
"No, no,
"It's you."
I wonder who she is.
But I hope she counts herself lucky.
And I also hope she is the friend I'm thinking of,
For the two were well matched last I saw.
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