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Love falls like a petal
He loves me, he loves me not.
He loves me, he loves me not.
You would think that taring off petals would bring me good luck.
But usually for me its the opposite.
He never loves me and never will.
So why do i waste my time ripping off petals you may ask?
Its because just maybe just once that good luck will actually come true.
So i pick a roes every night and watch the petals take their flight.
Hoping, Wishing, Needing that the last petal that falls will end up being the end of my unhappiness.
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