I never felt so lonely and in pain,
These thorns of mine the battle won again,
From the rose I humbly gave to a lover,
A vain, oblivious douche and poseur.
My legs are stained by its crimson juice,
feelings on which my body I let loose,
lashes from an innocent rose,
Bejeweled red dew revealing woes.
So now, tonight, a peace ill keep,
Released in words and cuts so deep,
in velvet debt to a rose bouquet,
One given; and the rest thrown away.
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