Sometimes,
Love turns its back on you.
It transforms into a person called Hate.
When Hate has had enough
It shows that it doesn't really care anymore.
It gives you Ignorance
Which shares its depression:
A storm.
But with every depression
Comes something else:
A rose.
And somehow,
In some way,
Love will find its way back.
It's buried inside of you
Waiting for you to let it bloom.
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