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Wilt thou, wilt thou not...

by Laura Doom

Vanity plucks
the most perfectly formed
and perfumed rose,
holds it to her face and blushes,
in the expectation
that it will be inspired
to bleed poetry.

10/11/2006

Posted on 10/11/2006
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by David Maurice on 06/08/14 at 12:58 AM

She deigns to take her dew

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