West olive Michigan
United States

I once thought of love as a prison,

a place I didn't want to be.

So long ago I made a decision,

to be footloose, fancy and free.

But you came in and I was so tempted,

to gamble on love just one time.

Whoever thought I would get caught,

it seemed like the perfect crime.

Babe I'm not begging for mercy,

go ahead throw the book at me.

Cause if loving you is a crime,

then I am guilty as can be.

This poem is about: 
My family
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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