Dirty paper tattered clothes, a dripping crimson rose,
Cloned to indifference, shy to compromise as an orchid’s soul,
Exact in reward, preferred in mercy, a treasured pink doll,
Deceived by path, destined to fail, a hidden face under a black scarf,

Eyes rained memories flood a blue sky and clear water,
What else but glory to achieve and revenge to repay,
Lost to the unwitting circumstances, bare to pain,
This dirty paper bond is worth millions but only begets fire.

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