The Little Rose (poem)
The night had ended for this little rose
This simple token of a poor boy’s heart
It was his gift to bless the evening’s start
Yet few would know the depth this poor boy chose
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He grew this flower knowing of this night
And through its days they shared the dream he planned
The rose she wore was crafted by his hand
To share a wondrous moments of delight
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Now there it lay the final kiss had passed
Was this the final purpose of its life
And if he knew he too would feel the knife
Had love like rose now truly seen the last
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Into a memory a lasting look
She placed the rose inside a special book