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Rain, Roses, and Medicine.
What is a rose?
But a a simple flower with a fighting spirit and a diversity matching that of humanity.
But they behold beauty like the crowning masterwork who's life has been full of masterworks.
That is why you are my white rose, pure, innocent, with heart, and breath giving.
And rain,
Some say they are the tears of an angel.
Others believe they are a gift from up on high.
In truth I can't make heads or tails of it.
Just like you. so unpredictable and free.
Being everywhere, and yet, just out of reach, how you make me feel about you.
Finally medicine,
Everyones heard the small meaingful simile I about to make.
It's overused, created by some great artist long ago...it's a cliche.
But it's my final cliched metaphor to you, a last bid of why and how I love you.
You are like a medicine, healing me.
A vitamin keeping me strong.
A bandage holding me together.
That, however, was not my last I love you.
Rather the start of a line of many more to come.
What would you say back?
poem
by
Adrian Cordova
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