Bed of Roses

There is nothing that the rain won’t clean
However much we may have sinned
Fade away, they will, as if unseen
With each drop our soul is skinned

There is nothing that the rain won’t clean
It’s time for the soul to rest and dream
To see what it’s done, and know where it’s been
And put the final dot to each and every ream

There is nothing that the rain won’t clean
Yet it better stop now; the soil has thinned
It must smell nice, and feel serene
For I came for the roses, not the wind.

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