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Jan 2015
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Your soul withers away
As mine does too
The moon cries
Under the endless night
And falls down
Under a painted sky
Forests were burnt
The snows painted red
Her cheeks blushed peach
As she was pale and cold
With no more room
In her arms anymore
For dark as it was
Under this starry night
She was dead and lost from sight.
Written by
Poet-Whisperer
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