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I loved roses Wild roses Roses with colour Roses with thorns
I got roses thrown at me once They lied I cringed And the flowers suffered the pain
I got roses thrown at me twice I cried I wanted to touch them But they offered the rose thorns to me
I wanted them so badly To feel their warmth I got them so painfully anyway Standing on the top of my grave and staring as they drop one petal at a time
They were beautiful Soft , shiny They were thornless for a moment I had hoped someone had sent them to me while I was still able to smell them.
