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Brooke Apr 2018
Once upon a time,
the world seemed like mine.
In a garden of black gold,
an unknown story yet to unfold.
A bud so newly born,
rose guarded by its thorns.
Freely basking in the Sun,
I became the chosen one.
To live another day,
better to be plucked away.
Spreading Roots fail to grow,
rot begins to take its blow.
Fungus slowly eats you through,
relentless efforts failed you.
All that was withers and fades,
taken by its shearing blades.
Lost forever to a fortune unseen,
a fate no one would ever dream.
Fibromyalgia ~ Feelings of being taken over... What was no-longer is... Nor will it ever be...

— The End —