Love is like a rose on a spring day
beautiful as you watch it bloom
petals so delicate to the touch
a scent that lures you in
in awe of its beauty as it opens
unable to take your eyes away
the maginificence of its perfection
each petal unlike the rest
gently touching its blooms
carefully not to disturb
yearning to feel its softness
to take in it's sweet smell
how quickly it can fade
without precious handling
without food and water
to keep it thriving
slowly it slips away
desperately trying to revive it
wishing you could turn back time
to the rose's splendor of perfection
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