White Rose


White Rose

The cook the cat the hat

that being all - she said

some random number

I looked up and under

white rose the rose so white

number six not disclosed

sun is dead yet still so bright

and all you think is true

might you find it cruel


what is there in front of you

is never there 


the hat the cat the cook

and four

The King in november

door behind the door

white rose

I remember


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