"The weather, was crying with him. The soft rain were mixed with the salty tears dripping down from Chance cheeks, if somebody would heard his pain.. Oh how deep the pain was, the pain of never confessing, the pain of.. Love. The love that comes and goes, but not this Love. Chance love was true and painful, not obsessive, a gentle one, just as the Roses. His heart was like a Rose, but now is just a Rose who none ever take care, never cared.. Never gave her love. Oh the pain…
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