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May 2016
A rose once bloomed in a ***
At the edge of my bedroom window counter.
Stem slithered towards sunlight
And soon pricked the widow pane.
So I plucked it and locked
It in my shoebox.
Without the sun,
Soon my rose withered,
So I buried it under a tree in the backyard.
I am Blackjack
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I am Blackjack
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   Rose
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