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The Last Rose

On a snowy day,

In a dimly lit street,

An ailing girl, utterly dismayed

Perches under the canopy of an enormous tree.

 

Looking heavenward,

Her eyes well up a little.

Perhaps she’s waiting for a special someone,

But all that comes to her are snowflakes, frosty and brittle.

 

She tears the icy veneer of the earth

With her gloved fingers.

And buries a white rose b...

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