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Beauty and death
April 7, 2022
Roses are red and the sun is hot.
I know Their dead but not by the hands of God.
The blood is dripping from my hands.
As I sit there in the sand.
I see them laying there beside me.
The roses were red but now there dying.
I think it's so sad to see you crying.
© Yisrawayl G., Philadelphia, PA
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I did this for class