This was written about a month or so ago.
The laughs of children on a play ground,
So soothing on such a depressing day.
It’s been a month and a half almost two,
I still sit here and thing what can I do?
The rose you gave me still hangs around my neck,
So close to my heart; the heart you had.
I gave it to you long before you left.
Now I have it back, it’s cold and empty.
Where did I go wrong with myself?
You know they say a man has many flowers in his life, but there is only one rose.
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