The date embedded in every inch of my pale infested skin,
I think not of the present but my mind straddles to the past, Every past moment leading to this moment flashes before my eyes, A glimpse of the highlights entrenched with the low. A path paved with tear jerking thorns and budding roses, Not easily maintained but with the morning sun, The path provides a blistering beauty, a successful crop. Her rays vibrate through the sky, Satisfying and nurturing the budding roses, yet she gets nothing in return but yet she continues to shine. The day is nigh, the sun no longer shines, The clouds are a ceaseless shadow, As the budding roses bow their heads in sorrow, For they have lost their mother. She knows the success of her roses, The ones she nurtured to health and revived from the winter's evils, Her love will be an eternal flame.
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Mary DohertyJust a blog to post some of the offerings I create in my spare time. I hope you enjoy! Archives
September 2019
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