You might like it if I was shady like you, I'd become something more than just your shadow. My thorns will no longer be soft and pliable, and my stem will forever be green and youthful. While you burnout, like the flame you are.
No longer am I nothing but a rose. My petals have fallen to the cold ground. My perfume has faded away, like every flower does.
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Wonderful poem, Amanda. Thanks for sharing