A rose to wonder
A rose to see
A rose to ponder
A rose to admire
For I would not blossom
Without cold rain in the winter
For I would not fourish
Without the defensive thorns
Treat me gently
Treat me sweet
For I have my past
I have my sorrow
For today's beauty
Is tommorow's sorrow
For I will wither
Who will then give me pity
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