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Young Rose
A silver road along the rose’s stem,
Her eyes they weep these
Silver roads.
The red silk ribbon that bound her so,
Is now bled into the depths
Of her heart.
That angelic smile
Is now crestfallen,
Knowing the world round her
Is spinning without her.
No one there to dry her tears,
No one there to wipe her fears.
Bound forever to watch
Her friends grow.
As she herself
Is just a
Young Rose.
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