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Broken are the roses. The garden doesn't seem the same. And every breeze that passes through, forever, whispering your name. And then there comes the moments, The ones where one feels all alone. Lost upon the roses, where memories were born and grown. Maybe I could plant one now And you can help it grow. You can bring the sunshine, the light that melts the Winter's snow. Upon those cold oul mornings, when we feel lost and afraid. You'll be growing roses, shining through the mornings haze.
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
The Roses.
Broken are the roses. The garden doesn't seem the same. And every breeze that passes through, forever, whispering your name. And then there comes the moments, The ones where one feels all alone. Lost upon the roses, where memories were born and grown. Maybe I could plant one now And you can help it grow. You can bring the sunshine, the light that melts the Winter's snow. Upon those cold oul mornings, when we feel lost and afraid. You'll be growing roses, shining through the mornings haze.
peter-cullen
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
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