Sorrow And Happiness
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I love poem, prose and Rose
When touched Rose without care,
I am hurt; wounded,
Delicate petals at the top,
On the thorny stem,
Thorns surrounded,
Prose my deep wound with agony,
I relinquish with the pills of poetry
Prose and poetry constitute a plant,
The Rose plant,
Sorrow and happiness, they share both
The life that we have is a touch of Rose;
With care or without care,
Effect is seen by all..
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