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A Painted Dream 
By Christina M., Shrewsbury, MA
I stared longingly at the thousands of painted flowers on my wall
All of them on the outside alike.
They were all a part of my life but not my heart.
Every time I tried to grasp one it never quite fit right into my hand.
It always seemed to pass right through the cracks of my fingers.
I gave up on searching and started to float inbetween each pink flower
Brushing them with my fingertips but never giving them my whole hand.
Then it happened
I accidentally grasped one.
As soon as I held it I could not let it go.
It was forever implanted into my glowing hand.
I dug through its unopening petals
Into its stem and down to its roots.
Picking at every vein.
Feeding it all the waters of my soul,
And slowly its petals started opening, showing me its inside,
Looking more beautiful each day.
And when it was in full bloom it took my breath away.
Every ounce of its loveliness flowed into my heart.
Its playful scent danced into my nose and filled my head with its
Dreams.
Then the sun about us began to fade carrying in the dark months.
One by one each of the petals drifted off with the wild wind.
I sat and watched unbelieving as the flower became hard and died.
Not even my gentle touch could bring it back.
So I held it tightly in my shaking hand.
For I knew that if I let go, I too would wilt away.










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