My name's Cecelia so i'm sharing with you a poem called "For Cecelia" by a guy named Jackson H. Day. It was written in Saigon July 11th 1968. Enjoy:

Toward sunset, a playful breeze,
Warm and aimless, rustled through a park:
Catching in a whirlwind two leaves,
Then let them scatter in the dark.

I have no idea who this guy is but if he wants to write a poem about Cecelia then all the power to him.

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