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Present
The book was a present,
like the rose I was given.
I could smell, hear
unlike the wither flower,
The pages were evergreen with love I felt
not knowing there was an end waiting,
Maybe I could be...
like the rose I was given.
I could smell, hear
unlike the wither flower,
The pages were evergreen with love I felt
not knowing there was an end waiting,
Maybe I could be...
