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Life of a roseThe rose grows in beauty, The thorns protect it from pain, The rose grows in beauty, But not without the rain, The rose was planted with God's gentle care, And it grew in beauty with the fresh spring air, The petals open to the heart of the rose, And there is the secret of our souls, The rose is made of soft silk, Protected by a thorn. And as it starts to wilt, A new rose is born. But the memory will linger That the rose was there, And now it's in God's garden. In a angel's care. A rose will once again appear, Growing more beautiful from an angel's tear, Like the answer to the world's prayer. A Rose always grows in beauty some where. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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