Roses Have Thorns

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The more I look the fairer thou be,
as wind blowing and clasping my valor,
and holding my gift to offer for thee,
thy loving-kindness is what I long for.

Bonnie thou art as birds flying above,
thy wings spreading its beauty in the sky,
to flaunt thy joy and to declare thy love
with liberty thou art swiftly so high.

Yet, behold, thou art dangerous like rose,
thine beauty is comely but thorny heart
thy core never regret for you to lose,
the thing I gave you and breaking me like pot

I gave almost my all just for thy lust,
but thy love is cruel, left me with dust.

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