like a rose i bloom and die and have sharp thorns blooming to beauty then dieing and wilting and turning black missing being able to just be me im a rare flower a bloodred rose with black tipped petels not all dark but not all normal either, one of a kind. they try to turn me into a boring pink innocence rose and that just aint me im not that rose im black and red with blood stained thorns and tears in the petals from being hurt and abused but i wont change this is me love me or hate me accept me or dont this is me
i a woman confused do i go or do i stay follow their dreams ir follow mine grow wings to fly like a butterfly flying over a rainbow flying wherevever the wind blows pretty as a flower as a work of art one of a kind not another like her shes a prize to behold flying freely no one can catch her no one can tame her thats just the way it is and the way it always should be butterfly fly free
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