NOT.

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These cruel petals dropping slowly down
Are caged by death, beauty gone quietly.
Hushed whispers: Love or Not? is asked again.
Her questions spin out, weaving a romance -


A fairy tale, with an ending unsaid.
The final chapters are written on these,
The thin membranes of flower, lovely yet
Dead, used answers of the desp'rate query.


Speaking with fragile strength, delicate words
Stop. Wet eyes blink. Lips purse. Silent waiting.
" NOT." Choking, gasping - quiet while her throat
Swallows the dream and the story it wrote.





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