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I Write Whatever I Want To Write

I gave a rose
But grasped a thorn, and
Blood was streaming
Down my arm
All that tangled in my heart
Was a briar and a rose.
I stemmed the flow
And rode the tide
But fortune wasn't
On my side
Heal the wound
Forget the bride
The Briar holds no rose.
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BexEyes · 46-50, F
Sometimes the blossoms stay encased and rot.
Dayvee65 · M
@BexEyes True...story of my life!! Truth is, I let the rot ferment, and drank from the barrel of self pity. Even the dregs were consumed. No excuse...I know.
BexEyes · 46-50, F
@Dayvee65 I wonder what fermented unblossomed buds taste like...if it’s beer, then I’ll join you.
Dayvee65 · M
@BexEyes you're always welcome. I'm guessing it wouldn't be much different than a hobgoblin brew.🍺