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I sip onto
Crimson wine
My legs hugging my chest
On a mysterious
Bench in the park
As my dead rose's final petals
falls slowly
touching the ground,
Given to me
From the lover
who didn't wanted to be
Called mine
- Poorvisha Vasanth
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wine & dead roses
PoetryWhen he left me I realized that The roses that he gave me were not supposed to be the only thing that should ...
