My Rose


My rose never sprouted but is still beautiful to me
"I'll never let go Jack," and then I set her free
I debate in my mind if I made the right choice
But my sweet little rose, did not yet have a voice.

You can buy me a bouquet of roses
But mine one will never be replaced
All I want is to know that my baby rose
Is in a beautiful place

There could of been a thousand thorns
But I still would of held her so tightly
until every one of my fingers were torn.

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