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Nov 2013
A place on the periphery
outside edge
sharpen with her stare
Could I ever make her care?
Covered in roses
Intricate poses

I took out all the thorns
threw them at you
blood battered
fried and hot  
taking what is due.
I never meant to love you
I never meant to stop and start

We never meant to part.
Ann Beaver
Written by
Ann Beaver
959
   Jade M Matelski, --- and Md HUDA
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