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You've never loved me,
how lately realisation struck.
Knocking at 2AM, not for my
personality,
but for caressing my flower.

Sweet talks,
saying my flower stands out.
Musing about it in your songs,
its fragnance you love to sought.

Thought it was my heart.
Oh, how innocent I am.
Was just your toy all this time.
And the worst part?
Said I was the only one,
yet collecting bouquets of other's
flowers.

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