Sunday, July 17, 2011


"You don't know what you've got until it's gone."

Everyone wants to be cared for
Because we are like little flowers
Who need a hand to
Nurture us.

We are like flowers
Decorating the world
With splashes of colours
And scent of spring.

But some of us
Needs a little more effort
Blooming later than others
But they are special.

But what of us?
We are not the most beautiful,
Nor smell the nicest,
But we still like attention
And a little bit of love.

Those hands stroke them,
Singing whispered encouragements,
As we watch them
Showered by things we covet.

Notice us!
We are trying our hardest,
Doing our best.

Will alone, coming from the heart
Will only sustain for so long
Until we slow down and look back
To see that nothing had changed.

Flowers will die someday.
Such is life, only a blink in the eyes of eternity.
So easily wasted,

We are trying to live,
To appreciate,
To move on and see the world,
And one day we will break away
From the hand that feeds us.

And from that moment on,
You'll notice what you have done.

Once it happens, would you change the past? We regret not doing something-- neglecting instead of caring, restricting instead of letting go.
We never cherish what we're supposed to.
We neglect them, and yet never let them go-- and that is the worst mistake.

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