She is the zest of my existence,
I blissfully surrender all,
The regrets she thumps,
On my bald-flat-grey head.
She outperforms me and represents;
Every instant of ecstasy from me
Yet she exposes my crabbiness
But I need to yield
My purse, my preferences
My free will and my manners
Of moving, along wildly.
If I need to experience the darling,
I need to accept the throbs.
A rose is always surrounded by thorns.
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