The Life in Rhymes of an Angsty Teenager

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Remembering the Irish Rose

her cheeks are the blushing of roses

and her petal-soft lips pull away

as if what once bloomed between us

has wilted with failure to linger

you can never tame a wild rose

for secret thorns are often cleverly hidden

a longing red hue will draw you in

just close enough to tear you apart

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