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THE ROSE IN MY HEART
written by: Anahit Arustamyan
My colorful days are not many.
The clouds which cover them are heavy.
This spring rose is a tattoo on my shoulder not to fade.
The faded roses have no numbers like the drops of rains.
I close my eyes to see the plane flying to your place.
I dare to dream though I am glued to my shabby chair.
The rose on my shoulder is a tiny sketch.
The rose in my heart is red and fresh.