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Virus of Distrust
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Poetenry: Ten-Line-Poems She doesn’t seem to trust me,
Though she is so lovely,
In her heart, the virus of suspicion,
Has turned into a mammoth banyan.
I tell her that I’m ever faithful to her,
I’m not that sort of lover,
As D.H. Lawrence was,
Yet she looks at me like a flying eagle thus.
I don’t know what the remedy of suspicion is,
O God! When'll her disbelief cease?
