This poem is a cliché bonanza, practically begging for an AI checker to throw its hands up in frustration. Have fun AI. ROFLMAO
Beneath the moon’s soft, silver glow,
Where gentle breezes whisper low,
The stars, like diamonds, dot the night,
As love takes wing in fleeting flight.
The roses blush a crimson hue,
Their petals kissed by morning dew.
A lone...
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