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Jun 18
When you love a rose, you love it with its thorns,
You take its scent and ignores all flaws,
Caress its pastel petals while admiring the succulent stem,
As the dew drips subjecting to gravity's will,
It's beauty astounding still,  draws attention to it's form,
Elegance springs from its core but all can be done is to adore,
In all it's beauty I find time for the thorns.
Written by
Waynepatrick  19/M
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