There is a flower in the garden
It is tender, and soft
And stands up to the cold
the wind and the rain, the sun,
the heath, the storm…
its name is love…
and it is so fragile
like life itself.
Bilingual Blog about poetry, short stories and some random pondering about life, culture and love as I understand it.
365 days we go, Round and around The brighten sun And we end at the exact Same point we were In the past year... But the canvas Is once ag...
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