Mademoiselle

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Gave her passion;

Stole her key.

Didn’t know to ignite;

Nowhere left to flee.

Tamed that beast,

Called her his own.

And when she tried to run,

He cocked his loaded gun.

Keyless and shame-faced,

She stayed through it all.

Where would she go?
So much was to be disgraced.

Burned through the passion;

No time left to ration.

Fired for the key,

He was dead by three.

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