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Rose, God bless thee. How quick you were to go into a world so bitter from roots you did not know. Your beauty hath betrayed thee, it steals thy youth away; for now a lonely glass encasement encases your decay. If you had been a daisy, your youth, your life, prolonged, how lovely it would have been to feel the earth so long. Rose, God bless thee. How putrid life must be flattering the eyes of those blind to your despondency.
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Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 11:04 AM UTC
The Rose
Rose, God bless thee. How quick you were to go into a world so bitter from roots you did not know. Your beauty hath betrayed thee, it steals thy youth away; for now a lonely glass encasement encases your decay. If you had been a daisy, your youth, your life, prolonged, how lovely it would have been to feel the earth so long. Rose, God bless thee. How putrid life must be flattering the eyes of those blind to your despondency.
blackbookpoetry
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Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 11:04 AM UTC
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