- Reads 101
- Votes 5
- Parts 5
- Time <5 mins
Ongoing, First published Jul 06, 2019
"The smell of the American Roses, had me to knees. The color of my blood, the bloom of my heart, the smell of my dreams, the thorn of my pain, the stem of my cycle, the petles of my past. I am the American Roses, you pick, you smell, you adore, but not love. I am the American Roses."All Rights Reserved
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