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A Red Rose
Symbols of love,
He hands me a rose,
In attempts to be a green flag,
A red, blooming one,
Stabbing me with the lone thorn,
A drop of deep red on falls on my white gown,
Unknown to all this,
He leaves with a peck on my crown.
As the day goes by,
I sneeze countless times,
Maybe it's the changing weather,
Maybe it's the dust I can see in the light,
In attempts to be a green flag,
I breathe in the scent,
Now my nose is itchy,
Matching the colour of the rose exact.
At the end of the day,
The rose is still blooming,
But I am not,
Looks like I've got a love bite,
From the rose I got,
In attempts to be a green flag,
A soft boy, the one,
He made me realise,
I'm allergic to one.
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