The rose
The rose that was in full bloom has reached its doom
At once this flower was a deep red and now it is black and dead.
This rose is now frail and bent and has even lost its scent.
The roses' thorns are now deep, even though the flower is asleep.
The leaves that hold on to life are at lost when faced with a knife.
This lonely rose now hangs its head, for now it is truly dead.















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--
/reflections across the mirror of my eye//
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