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Blossomed love
Someone once said
We love to the sense of madness
On one hand we grope it
On the other we hope it
Therefore love becomes very dense
Flowering with life
A colorful living fence
Lovers bathe in liquid joy
haters but with their hearts to toy
So go slowly my friend
Life does not end
Love spent like a flower
Will therefore bloom again
Smell the aroma in the air
From a blossom
Oh so fair
Oh so fair
poem
by
John Shea
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