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Nov 2013
Rows of perfect flowers fill their pots,
loving arranged by a flawless florist.
They, the lilies and gardenia and daisies
have no place for dandelions like me,
with my roots that spread and corrupt.
In perfect lines they stand, my dear ones,
colors that light up, showing them off,
and, angry at
      (jealous of)
their beauty,
        I destroy.
Adalaide Rose
Written by
Adalaide Rose
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