The Rose

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It was the most beautiful rose, so red and so wild
It bloomed so wide, I think it smiled!
But over time, lacking in water, sunlight and air,
The rose began to wilt, as it had no care.

The rose, suffocated by lack of help,
Could not survive, but held in the yelp.
As it withered away, nothing seemed to care,
That the rose was dying, death loomed in the air.

But as the last breath was breathed, and all seemed lost,
The rose fought hard, no matter the cost
Light began to shine again, the rose heard a whispered prayer,
Another breath was taken in, one of fresh clean air.

A new sun had taken over, one who stood so tall
He handled the storm, the droughts, the rain; he handled it all.
The rose’s smile bloomed again, things seemed to repair.
Until the light was snatched from the sky, and the rose turned to despair.





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