The Rose

Some say love,
It is a river that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love,
It is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love,
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It is a hunger, an endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
And you its only seed.
It's the heart, afraid of breaking,
That never learns to dance.
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It's the dream, afraid of waking,
That never takes a chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give.
And the soul, afraid of dying,
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That never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely,
And the road has been to long,
And you think that love is only for
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The lucky and the strong
Just remember
In the winter far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose.