Wilted roses.
Just like the two of us.
We were once red,
passionate,
yet separated with thorns.
From our different past,
we were afraid to get hurt.
And so,
the closer we get,
the greater the pain we felt.
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Poetry of the Soul
ПоэзияOur soul is like an ocean full of deep secrets, hidden fears, demons, and angels lurking at the depth of our being. If eyes are the window of the soul, then where would be the door? ------------------- Collection of poems, words left unsaid, words...
