no marks

If I could have but one confession
Then perhaps I’d know
That I had left a mark on you
Though it may never show

If I could have but one concession
Perhaps it would explain,
Why still I see some worth in you
Though little else remains

If you could ask me just one question
And be sure of a true reply,
What would it be? What could it be?
If it were not, why?

And if I could then have my turn
I’d ask not why, nor how,
But what will you retain of me
Many years from now

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