Dead RosesA Poem by Leslie Mariedeep plum, burnt red, rest your head, sleep withered and strong, at your base, from time, and time again, laid to rest in beauty surrendered, it remains, strange your scent remains, capturing the essence, of where you once resided perpetual life, through death, eternity in a glass jar
© 2013 Leslie Marie |
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Added on August 27, 2013 Last Updated on August 27, 2013 Author
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