Love, is like a rose,
Deep inside, has its thorn,
The base is strong, as I suppose,
And its head, is like a french horn.
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P eople in the past, used to talk a lot,
H ow time works, at most!
Y es or not were not just words,
L onely people wanted Gods!
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You are here, in my mind,
Where ever I go, on every side!
You are here, that is what I felt,
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The music, is in full size,
While our feelings,
Are starting, to arise!
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Memories don't cry,
They are our friends,
Give them a small nest.
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From the very beginning,
There was a meaning,
A feeling !
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It is supposed, that the power of the mighty light,
Opens our heart, at love, from the first sight!
When our eyes, in a quick look,
Caches the portrait, from the life book!
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I really want to go,
But you….. love me so,
So , I feel…. I must stay,
For only , one more day..
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It is fate alone, that manages our move,
In each route march, with privet muse,
On these dreams, wills or pose,
Which everyone's choice, in his close?
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The birth of a painting,
Is like a vision, a sight,
A melody, on her first dating,
Jumping from an inner light!
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