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He left her blue roses
To commemorate his love
Left her notes,
Telling her to notice him
When she didn't
People had to die
People who looked like the victim
Who deserved to survive
But not everything is perfect
When predators lurk in the night
He stalked her until her wounds had healed
Those three little marks
That she left on his brow
Marring him, molding him
Into the scar of a person
This stalker really is
Lonerblues Jun 2018
I was a blue rose in a garden of red
However you plucked and threw me
Like I was the rest.

— The End —