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Friday, December 22, 2006


Roses are Red...
The white rose is stained red
with her young blood. A soft heart
died in the flood. Her mother cut her
daughters wrist and let the blood sain
the rose..forever more could she see her
daughters tears, her laugh, her cry, her love
of life..The mother took another white rose and stained it red again...her daughter was her life...her daughter was dead.

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