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'I'll be back next week,' Ellen, my sweetheart calls

as she walks into the airport halls.

I am Portia de Rossi, her dedicated wife

that waits sorrowfully for Ellen, day and night.

'I love you,' her sweet voice rings,

her smile that makes me feel I have wings,

but when she goes, my heart is not right

I wish my dear Ellen was always in sight.

'I'm home', Ellen says as she closes the door

but when she leaves I'm wanting more

of her smiles and loving gaze

being infatuated with the famous doesn't pay.

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By Hannah

View more poems from Hornsby Girls High School, 2013