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The RoseI picked this rose one day strolling along life's' pathway It stood out to me crimson red, smooth as silk my heart it fed I felt as though I would hunger no more to fill a void my heart had bore the most wonderful thing I ever saw life, radiant, compassionate, more extravagant than anything I could imagine at all I wanted to cherish it for ever I tried to do so but despite all my effort Its wilted, dead, will bloom again NEVER Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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