I could tell by the way she smiled,
She wasn't actually living.
Her skin so pale it was ghostly,
I could still feel love she was giving.She was my amaranth.
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PoetryA collection of poems written by MyChemicalLibrary that go from happy and exciting to dark and bleak, with everything in between. A poem will be added at least once per week, if not more than that.
Amaranthine
I could tell by the way she smiled,
She wasn't actually living.
Her skin so pale it was ghostly,
I could still feel love she was giving.She was my amaranth.