Roses Changed My World
As i picked the rose of tomorrow.Through my fingers creeped the sorrow.
As my finger gripped the thorn,
a drop of blood began to fall.
Redder than the rose itself.
The blood began to change my world.
As it hit the white icy snow,
another rose began to grow.
I always thought i was alone.
In this weird and crazy garden.
The cut on my hand begins to harden.
My world is back again.
I know now i cannot stay.
As i walk away,
i turn to look.
My rose has died and whithered away.
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