Piece of Art

When the windeth blows, it's ev'r so cold

But nev'r as such within mine soul

F'r thoust claim'd I'm dark withineth

But I hast not commit'd sineth


Shall clouds rolleth in, I dear proclaim

Thund'r comes, it hath nay shame

I seeth the leaves began to fall

As the drops of sorrow backeth up they crawl


F'r broken pieces of mine heart

lieth somewh're as a piece of art

Just like mine loveth, life separate

I won't forgeteth that envy date.



Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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