where are the flowers

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
repentence

Submitted: September 04, 2012

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Submitted: September 04, 2012

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we used to pick flowers together everynight, now they are gone have they grown out of sight. or mabey they are still there but the seasons have changed or mabey theyve changed there colors could it ever be the same. could it just be that were looking in the wrong spot, or that we got lost somwhere along the way i really hope not. i cant find the flowers and its driving me mad, alas i say nothing and you notice that im sad. why must you find the flowers whys it so important to you,  becouse its somthing that we did together somthing that we loved to do.  we loved it on the sunny days even the ones with bad weathe its not so much getting the flowers but doing it together. you used to love running barefoot through the hils wed roll around in the flowerpatch enjoying lifes little thrills. we were happy, we're still happy now, even with the flowers being gone. becouse there is so much more to enjoy like ducklings spending thier day in the pond. we could walk this countryside untill weve seen it all, once in every season, winter, spring, summer, and fall. i dont mind not picking flowers even if ti never happens again, im just as happy now as i ever could have been then. so well find somthing else as comforting as home, id be happy finding anything as long as im with you and never alone. so can you settle for somthing thats a little diffrent than before, or would gathering up branches be admitting failure and pouring salt on the sore. i want it to be the same but i fear it can never be, is it becouse someone got to the flowers, got there before me. no thats foolish i would see the path that they took, or mabey i stole all the flowers mabey im the damn crook. but could i do that with out knowing about the damage being done, i thought it was a good idea to pick the flowers i was just having fun. to  much fun then i destroyed sonthing we had, i didnt relize what i was doing could be somthing so bad. im sorry im sorry for ruining somthing we loved to do, i picked them all up and now theres none left for you. you say you dont mind that its not a big deal, but these internal wounds are different from the surfface ones cause they take longest to heal.  and there scar last forever never fading away, like the memory of picking flowers each and everyday. what can i do other than beg for a thousand pardons, ill grow you a thousand flowers in your own seceret garden. a garden where no one can get them not element, beast or man. and ill take you to this place if  you just take my hand. well go there together just you and me and we can pick these sacred flowers for all eternity.


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