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Dead Roses


The roses are dead

The roses are blue

The roses are sad

Call me a liar, you know it's true

The roses are withered

The roses are black

The roses they cry

Because you're not coming back

The roses sing sweetly

The roses sing low

The roses are dead

Why?

I think you know

The roses look at me

The roses look away

The roses try to speak

They don't know what to say

The roses are dead

The roses are blue

The roses won't grow

All because of you

 
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Donavuan Salazar

High school poet. Backroads runner. Long word winder

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