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Virgin
Pristine, beautiful, and white
Until we trampled on it
She
Compares herself to the fallen snow
Once was pure and clean
And still should have been
Everything
Changed and became used as tissue
Crumpled, destroyed
Pollution turned dark as night
Neglected
Worthless
And not beautiful to look at anymore
Hope
Washes away with the dropping rain
Dulling, but not purifying
Crying out, but very unheard
Next snow
She will give herself away...
For the last time
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