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Roses
(Backer)
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Roses, frozen and stoned
To pieces of glass
Chrystal glass
Every single rose – left for nature’s old way
Of taking life
When you’re taking life for granted
Then by this careless cold
The pieces, one by one
Mechanically turned to ashes of stone
Never to live again
Roses, frozen and stoned
Now no bloom nor sweet smell
But cold, grey sand
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