He loves me…

He loves me, he loves me not.
He loves me, he loves me not.
I pluck each petal carefully,
taking care not to count too far ahead.
I don’t want to know – not really.
Whilst there are still enough petals
for the secret not to be known,
I crush the daisy underfoot.
He loves me, he loves me not.
That’s his business;
not mine.

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