The rose, and its petals
ranging from pink to red
are smiling on an
undefined path.
Smiling,
because they have heard of your condition.
And they would like to help
and to give you an hand.
But how? They are made of
only petals,
and they have no fingers.
See, you cannot call Nature cruel.
If only it could help.
But you have wasted it
and now you call it cruel?
You have tried to turn petals into iron
and dew into oil.
Try as you may, this is an impossible task
and you had to give up.
But wou…
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Posted on May 22, 2008 at 4:13pm —
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