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I had sewed their mouth shut with needles of fame and yarns of destiny Heaven chose me for glory eternally
You know, I thought if I just kept writing about my pain That the pain would get better That I would get better That maybe by sharing my hurt I wouldn’t hurt anymore But the truth is that
When lovely lilies and orchids fade away, True love will neither wither nor die. It will blossom and bloom into a very beautiful thing. Life is short, so value the one you truly love.
Surprises often come in many hues Blue, black, yellow, green and white too Today morning I got a surprise in red A flower for which I waited since long Finally decided to bloom after nine years
It’s lonely to be the first bloom You wake from a long sleep Excited to see the new world Winter snow melting away Revealing the long-hidden green Only to find yourself all alone
I looked out my window On a dark April evening And my heart lifted up. One Yellow Pansy Had bloomed,
I prayed for flowers and was sent rain. I cried while it thundered, but the irises that bloomed were breathtaking. The waiting was the hardest part.
The first sign of spring is like this should be new year’s, not the era of the dead, icebox hand of winter clutching Mother Nature, like the fingers of the pastel, cotton-candy dawn
A single seed, unknowingly holding burden She doesn't know anything The hate she must determine She's locked up in a world of imposters a world full of monsters This seed which was planted
I hide my body, And decorated my soul, I don't put doormats or door signs, That says "welcome" anymore, I got rid of all the dodders, And sowed seeds of dreams in my chest,
Pitter patter drip drop Rain unending Rain never stops And just when, just when the gutter overflows, and grass rapidly grows Just when dark clouds loom
She is a wildflower. Not picked for her beauty, but for her wild heart. A child of mother nature she grows in the darkest of places. Through the cracks of brokenness she blooms with grace.
A bloom for you by Vir Singh The spring is at its climax Birds are singing with the music of winds Celebrating the spring season.
Her lips, sweet wet lips, hundred roses in their burst, can't with them compete. #haiku
To a Lavender named Lucy Oh my pretty, fresh, young yet lovely and precious Lavender I have no creativity as thee To write in papers of colour
Jazsmin jaz - man noun f 1. A blossoming flower that will always keep growing She silently developes within the faith of her blooms
When our species is summoned Brought from the unknown Where in is one's spirit shown? It is hidden deeply within only obviously felt when you feel it radiating remembering where
March twenty-fifth is when I missed your tender kiss.
All of us are like flowers, we start out real slow. From a really small seed, we learn things as we grow. To be better than someone else is our focus rather than the flow. Everyone has their moment,
you know its spring when,a chalky finger points the wayon the face of broken pavement too,a tulip gardens bed and,a splash of color grows.
By: Elena Canelli