The Rose with a Prose

It was okay as one might say,
not exacltly array but a bit dismay.
It was hard to believe, what he couldn't see,
but the heart at the top, made the whole world stop.

Now, it wasn't a house, or a tipical blouse.
And it wasn't a horse with a tipical force.
And it wasn't the beach with it's comical feet.
It was one of those, a simple rose.

The boy in the story made one aquire glory,
but he sat in gory,like he wasn't in sorry.
The man in the house,wearing his blouse,
was one a kind with the mouth of scouth.

Goodbye loved one, the man choose his rose.
Goobye to the sadness, that filled his whole prose.
Goodmorning and night it was time for Dwight.
A man in a can, with a woman near his hand.

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