It was yet another dark and gloomy Sunday afternoon
On the last day of February spring would be approaching soon
However in a small and lonely corner from across the room
A young man named Gage was writing poetry to heal his wounds
For Gage poetry was the only thing that gave him peace
His own personal getaway, his escape, his release
In Gage's eyes it wasn’t a hobby but more of a vivid passion
And for his words and his notebook he had a deep attraction
Gage rarely fell short of good topics and inspiration
And him and his readers shared mutual relations
Extending from the core of very similar situations
This is why he was an icon of great admiration
Then one day Gage received a message
From a beautiful, unfamiliar face
Taking him by surprise
Causing his heartbeat to race
Gage had not a clue
Who this lady was just yet
But to him she seemed interesting
So on a quest he set
On the last day of February spring would be approaching soon
However in a small and lonely corner from across the room
A young man named Gage was writing poetry to heal his wounds
For Gage poetry was the only thing that gave him peace
His own personal getaway, his escape, his release
In Gage's eyes it wasn’t a hobby but more of a vivid passion
And for his words and his notebook he had a deep attraction
Gage rarely fell short of good topics and inspiration
And him and his readers shared mutual relations
Extending from the core of very similar situations
This is why he was an icon of great admiration
Then one day Gage received a message
From a beautiful, unfamiliar face
Taking him by surprise
Causing his heartbeat to race
Gage had not a clue
Who this lady was just yet
But to him she seemed interesting
So on a quest he set
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