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Mar 2011
A lily grows
Where dead lay cold
In flowers gold
And decompose.

Young hearts are weak
And never sleep
But always keep
Thoughts they don't speak.

May I get lost
In sparkling eyes;
Another lie,
A precious cost.

The butterflies
Inside of me
Will try to see
The distant sky.
Please give credit if you wish to use any of my poems.
Thank you.
Written by
Kiana Gandol
532
   Charlie B
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