A Fading Rose A fading rose,
Still beautiful,
Stands proudly,
In a crowd,
Her face now pale,
Still delicate,
Protected,
By her thorns
She has a look,
Of wisdom,
And quiet,
Genteel calm,
Her scent,
Although diminished,
Still captivates,
The man.
A fading rose,
So beautiful,
He sees her,
Standing tall,
And though recalling,
Budding youth,
He won't, change her,
At all.
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