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Jan 17
My truest darling,
I plucked a flower for you.
Vibrant,
And fragile,
Just like us two.

You were soft,
And supple,
Like these pretty petals.
I hold it closely,
Away from nettles.

I will water it daily,
On your behalf.
No matter if this breath,
Shall be my last.

And although you're beneath
The soil and sands,

This flower,
My angel,
Shall never leave my hand.
This poem is about someone's lover passing away, but the love will never die.
Chelsea Quigley
Written by
Chelsea Quigley  21/F/Waterford
(21/F/Waterford)   
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