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Apr 2015
The Roses he bought me were as red as her hair,
and brought just the same despair.
The Roses he bought me were as soft as her lips,
The petals contained the curve of her hips.
The Roses he bought me smelled of her perfume,
like the covers in my bedroom.
The Roses he bought me pricked my fingers,

As she my heart, but she still lingers.
Written by
Lexi Buerle
  1.8k
     parttimeboy, Santiago, K, Wiser, IvyB Xx and 3 others
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