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Don't look back,
the petals are dying.
A wilted rose never lies,
don't listen to the sighing.
Don't feel bad,
for the planted seed.
For a rose without roots,
will cease to be.
You can't water,
a dying soul.
You can't minister,
a blackened pool.
Choices made, long forgotten,
don't look back, the petals are dying.
A wilted rose never lies,
don't listen to the sighing.
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