What Could've Been
The seed will be destroyed before the bud appears
and I will never see the blossom of the rose
There'll be no need for sun and the rain will hide the tears
and I will curse the cold wind as it blows
I could raise the Roses wearing ribbons for them all
if I would reap what I had sown among the seeds
Instead I'll choose destruction for the garden in my walls
and I'll live my life...a thorn among the weeds.
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