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My First Love

My First Love

I lie on the pile of roses
Thinking of you
I pull one out and hold it
Close to my heart
Wishing you were here.

The flowers delicately
Touch my face
The cool breeze feels good
In the warm sun
I pull a petal
I whisper into the wind
“He loves me”.

I lay the flower on the ground
Not wanting to pull another
I knew…
The only important thing is

About The Author

Nitya Nair

She has a hobby of writing down things on paper and sometimes in M S word whenever she feels happy or sad… and she has a dream to write a novel, but only after she is good at here is an approach to correct herself by writing here and getting comments and constructive criticism from people

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