Roses

Like a wilted rose pedal laying upon the stem, is my wilted broken heart laying within my chest.
Just like the dulled thorns upon the stem is the dried tears upon my cheek.
Like the falling of the pedals with age, is my hope and joy falling from me, and being replaced with pain.
But just like the old rose, there is still beauty within, a beauty you can see was there and can be brought back only with love.





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