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Never To Be A Beautiful Rose
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June 2002 Poetry In a garden of roses,
I’m the one never picked.
No one wants,
an ugly rose.
A rose is supposed to be beautiful.
People find themselves asking,
what happened to that one?
I started like any another rose,
but grew with wilted petals,
and large, painful thorns.
In a garden of roses,
I’m the one,
that’s never picked,
just left to die.
~*~ Jill ~*~
