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Thorn

You gifted me with the rose of your love
I possessed the hard but
Delicate beauty
For a while
Then you ripped my treasure from my hands
And bestowed it upon another
In payment
Leaving a jagged thorn
Embedded in my gentle palm
I pulled and pried
I cried in pain
The thorn drew my blood
It stays there, stuck
As a harsh reminder
Of the bittersweet rose
I once mistakenly loved




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