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Dexsta Ray


Dried Up Red Roses


Anamnesis...
Countenance fell
Rose petals on the floor...
A numbing betrayal
Those letters woken more than encompassing shell
Those letters closed the door
For the love was curtailed
Reluctantly...
Clearly wasn't meant for us to be
No communication
Broken patience plus deceit
What had I done to me?
Compassion's to blame...
Even if I went back it would happen the same
I ignited your spark
You extracted the flame
Then decided bogart was the action to take
Complicated...
And one would think the rose was unrelated
In fine fettle turned cold and desiccated
Now frozen in the pages, with the pictures, and the pain
I'd like to know the changes you were wishing to attain
Machiavellian...
So convincing it's a shame
I was focused on the sentence more than filling in the blanks

Submitted: Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 31, 2013
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