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THE ROSE



A rose blossoms with the warmth of the sun
Just as we glow In the heart of love.
A rose is crumpled in cold and stormy weather
And love is a corpse with the chill of harsh words.

Are we mere petals in the wind?
To be admired, to grow.
Or to be bashed and discarded,
Only to find somewhere new to regrow?

Can we risk regrowth,
To become once again that fragile rose?
YES....
For love is a flower In the garden of life.
And is subject to the winds of change.

Love has many hidden thorns as does every rose.
So be very careful when you choose that beautiful flower

For the love you may find may only last for a few hours.

 

© LONEWOLF71

 

                               


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