roots of existance

Theres a thorn in your rose

did you not see?

No one can choose you

You'll bleed them like me

Gathered the petals, mine for safe keeping

you snatched them back, leaving me no longer beeping

Machine's read a straight line

leaving me cross-armed and tangled in vines

Mornings new dawn i will never see

beneathe  baby's breathe and white lilies

The End

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