I once made my old love a paper rose.
A token of my love and affection,
and such a beautiful symbol I chose.
This paper thin and timeless reflection,
never to fall victim to death's cold fate.
This rosebud will be preserved forever
in its tantalizing, unchanging state.
To blossom it will never endeavor,
a breathless bud never blooms nor grows old.
Toward maturity it does not dim,
it sits as cold and as precious as gold.
This lifeless sprout was not born to survive.
My love is but a shallow memory,
An ageless paper rose I take with me.

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