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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1276075
i plucked a rose and was consumed with guilt
The clever thorns on a supple stem of a rose
A suffocating shield of a vine's leaves, desperately grasping
These are nature's desperate measures for sustaining life.
We snip the rose with gloved hands
trim the vine's fingers that no longer explore
ignoring the plea for mercy behind the defense
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