Rose, the master of the puppets, froze at the sight of death.
Bashful, yet she loved when she's told that her eyes have depth.
Evenly, her lies are stretched enough to unwind the stress.
"God bless this mess!" Wise, yet she lived for crime and sex.
An honest woman, losing control of being an up most believer,
That she would succeed in life even with her cutthroat demeanor.
For two years she's been playing tug of war with emphysema.
When she won, she lost her diet to forces of hemp and pizza.
Torching her sense of breathing ever since she met tequila.
When it came to life or death for Rose, she wasn't meant for neither.
Meanwhile,
Rose changed her lifestyle, filed for divorce with her husband, Kyle.
Found a new friend named Jane and adjusted her smile.
Her pain stayed, but as always her touch was admired.
She maintained her passion to work but found no luck and retired.
Her 60th birthday arrived and so did what's left of her family.
Everyone knew to keep their distance out of respect to her sanity.
Her frame bloomed a smile as she inhaled plumes of smoke.
Smoking to barricade the stress, "Quit soon, I hope."
Her battle with lung disease was won, calls for a pertinent cigarette.
However, each candle she blew out held a certain hint of regret.
Her sister said, "Rose you look so sad in your untied gown."
Rose shouted, "How would you feel if your life was turned upside down?"
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asylum @
sraL @
Adonis