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Rated: E · Poetry · Political · #1189095
To love and be loved regaurdelss of our simularities or differences
I found love in a field of flowers.


She spread her peddles with a simple caress
Shining her beauty, above the rest.

The angels from up above
gave her name for me to always love
They called her the Carla flower.

She was alone in a field of daisies
Her red petals stood out amongst the rest.
The other flowers, their jealousy was known
They ignored her as she smiled their way
Hoping to make a friend of them one day

The Carla flower, beautiful for all the eyes to see
Whimpered to one day be free
She pulled up her roots
Moved to a shaded area near a brook
She befriended a lone tree
It was bent in despair
No one ever visited or cared.
The Clara flower smiled with ease
She held out her petals, her friendship she shared.
The other flowers made fun of the pair

Mother Nature brought her wrath
Killing all the other flowers within her path
The Carla flower protected by the tree
It sheltered her from the winter cold breeze.
The tree nourished and held her tight.
It moved it leaves to allow her light.

The tree thanked the heaven for such a wonderful gift.
And solemnly vowed to give what ever she wished.
This story is be known to only a few,
I know this story to be true, because you see,
I am the outcast. a woman
I am the tree.



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