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Fish The Pig
Poems
Dec 2015
Bouquet
I walked by the counter
and noticed the roses,
drained pigment
now pink
and wrinkled
crisp and withered.
I think to myself
why, when ever did that happen?
only yesterday they stood tall and red.
I did not realize their neglect,
now it is too late.
Written by
Fish The Pig
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Becca DeMateo
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