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Polka dots and red roses, Stripes and wine, Gold and silk, A patchwork of soft promises Stitched into a Sunday dress. We wear it out to dinner, To each our own, We laugh over jokes And cry over our own. Stealing fries off each other's plates, Fixing hair before the mirror, Every secret safe between us, Every fear a little clearer. It was us from the beginning, It's us till the end, Not just my person, But my home, my friend.
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Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 1:00 AM UTC
To Each Our Own
Polka dots and red roses, Stripes and wine, Gold and silk, A patchwork of soft promises Stitched into a Sunday dress. We wear it out to dinner, To each our own, We laugh over jokes And cry over our own. Stealing fries off each other's plates, Fixing hair before the mirror, Every secret safe between us, Every fear a little clearer. It was us from the beginning, It's us till the end, Not just my person, But my home, my friend.
Shreshta
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Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 1:00 AM UTC
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