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untitled

In the throes of decay, you're a tulip wilted
But you're still perfect to me
Sometimes I feel like it's wrong to believe I could be just like you
Sometimes I feel like the garden which overgrew.
Written by Fishmander
Published
Author's Note
Out of all that I have written in my time, this one probably means the most to me. But I never gave it a title. I don't think I would even now. What would you title it?

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