When a flower grows wild, it can always survive - wildflowers don't care where they grow.
The flowers along the walkwhere she and I talked and talked.We stopped sometimes to pick a few,dripping with the morning dew.We laughed and joked we sang unafraidwe wrote stories and played silly charades.I lost track of her some years agoI tried to send cards or gifts with a bow.Alas it was not meant to befor you seelife goes on, oh but I wish I could seeher smiling face laughing back at me... Tia
I know it’s been you writing me for awhile, and when the secret was out, at first, it made me smile. You’re right, it has been some time,But those memories will forever be mine.I won’t forget the times we had,but there’s someone that is very important in my life,He is my Dad.And I wish those I love wouldn’t so thoughtlessly cause unnecessary strife, But that’s how some choose to go through life.Callously tearing relationships apart isn’t something I aim to do,So I apologize if I’m not following your ‘clue.’And if those care as much as they claim they do, then tell me, where are you?Years ago, gifts may have been sent, but how was I to know what it meant?Where have those that helped raise me been all this time? Where are those that promised they were forever mine?Thank you for the magic you did share,But turning my back on the people I love, is simply something I will not bear.
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