Writing Prompt

April 28, 2009
flowers of the field

picked by the children

placed in a vase.

as if it was fate.

flourished and thrived

then wilted and died.

tossed away with sad heart.

the wind tears us apart.

and not looking back

we're on different tracks.

it's starting again.

from beginning to end.

in each separate place.

as if there was fate.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback