Puddles

In the pools I mop up, From vases turned over, I often see your reflection. It's  Valentine's Day again, And you bring me flowers that are So fragrant and red-- Simply scented to mask the smell of your cheating. I hear the girl's voice echo from the bottom of the vase I see her reflection... Continue Reading →

How poetic it is that the most beautiful of flowers grow in the ugliest of places. l/r

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