For it is I


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Petals,

cascading in vibrant colors,

in perfect patterns,

diguising the evil of the 

Thorns, 

waiting patiently

for one to come too close,

resting on the 

Stem,

standing faithfully against the wind,

the rain that lashes mercilessly,

all making up a 

Rose,

a terribly beautiful masterpiece

of both love and hate.

Do not uproot the rose,

for it is I.

 

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