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Dead Flowers

And her life was likened to a garden in the winter. Dead flowers hidden away under a blanket of beauty. And her all too perfect white smile, was that blanket of snow hiding her truth. And her mind was just like all of those dead flowers. She aimed to be perfect...she aimed to be the sparkling snow. She just couldn't see the beauty, in the imperfect rose. Her mind was her garden but now her flow...
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