

A RoseIt sits gracefully on the bush, its home. Your rose has no other like itself. I had crumbled up long ago, and now my petals fly away on the wind. I raceA Rose
to a thousand places. I am alone. Your rose is in full bloom, and it is by your heart it grows. And I do fully lie in the wind's power. I race as waves foam
and crash onto the shore. Now the quick pace pulls me towards you. My last petal, floating, touches your rose. Both burst into fire.
The flames make a new rose and those looking see it burning then freezing. Now my face is yours. The bards t
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*pokes you with a cheese stick* >:0
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*Gives you a cookie*
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Paranoid
i liked your poem.
simple and interpretational.
keep at it
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"If the whole world had stood between us, we must have met; if we had been born in different ages, we could not have been sundered!"
-Nathaniel Hawthorne to Sophia, his wife
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
-from "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe
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