Randy Johnson

August 20, 1971 - Tennessee
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It's Too Late

(This is a fictional poem)

I remember a time when everything was great.
But you broke my heart, now you want me back but it's too late.
Our love was like a pretty flower about to bloom in its season.
I loved you more than life itself but you left without reason.
Now my nerves are shattered, my heart is filled with hate,
and for us it's too late.
You led me astray and I was never aware.
You tore me apart, did you really ever care?
You left me and now my mind is in an angry state.
I can never forgive you, it's too late.
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