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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#397821voted by our readers
By Anonymous
she is my rose, we met in the springtime, she bloomed and became, while in the meantime, I watched, And sought, to be close to her, thinking of approaching her, but choking...
she is my rose, we met in the springtime, she bloomed and became, while in the meantime, I watched, And sought, to be close to her, thinking of approaching her, but choking...