in the night i sleep soundly as a part of me dies.
i wake scared about the past.
the dreams i have are now tied to my very being
as though they are that of a rose
as though a rose is at peace
I am a rose that has wilted
I am a rose?
thanks for careing
and like my shareing
Reply:When roses wilt in my house I throw them away. That's about what I'd do with this "poem" too.
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