A hearts tree


What fortune brings or time changes, the rose's thorn abhors. 

A whistling wind Came running by, and stole it from your door. 


It takes but one act to change the sight, aligned so accurate and true. 

But many acts can change the person, the life in which he new. 


The dust still settling from broken trees, the sound they make, in the silent night.  

Where is what is supposed to be, when once again it's light. 


Or is what's supposed to be, already is what is. 

How to overcome and adapt, 

To the changes such as this. 


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