March 21, 2011
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For if the world,
Was just as simple,
As children make it seem,
Then my garden will be filled with roses.
All the pretty kind of yellow, white, and pinkish red.
The love and the life,
Would over shine,
And all the spirits could smile on a moonlit night.
But with the confusing days,
And the unhappiness to great to understand,
My garden is dry.
Oh! How I wish for the imagination days.

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