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Hi, my name is Tink
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Roses and Glass

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By Xx_Rini_xX Send DollMail
Created: 2012-08-28 21:48:32 All stories by Xx_Rini_xX
I know I haven't been on in forever. School is kinda kicking me in the but right now and sucking out all of my inspiration. =/ However I did find a little poem I wrote, probably when I was like 10... and it was bad... but it inspired this poem. I will post the original at the bottom.

Enjoy =)


With flowers in hand,

And love in my heart,

I entered a small shop.


The walls were stacked,

With the most beautiful glass,

On dusty, uneven shelves.


“Hello sir,”

The old shopkeeper spoke,

He eyed my flowers uneasily.


“I’m looking for a vase.”

I let my eyes wander,

Searching among the glass.


One stood out,

Caught my eye,

A beautifully, simple vase.


It was cracked and chipped,

Yet still beautiful as ever.

But what it contained was a mystery.


It held a rose,

Well not really a rose,

Just the stem.


“I’ll tell you my story, son.”

The old man said.

“One from long ago.”


He told me of his lover,

A flower shop keeper,

Named Mary Lee Ann.


She always brought flowers,

For the shop of course,

And he would give her vases.


But she had a secret,

A reason to visit,

She fell in love too.


“We were so in love.”

The old man smiled.

“I much more than her.”


“That rose there,”

He pointed to the vase,

“Was her last gift to me.”


“But it wilted,”

“Quicker than it bloomed.”

He longingly gazed at the glass.


Finally he spoke,

His voice slightly wavered,

“I let the petals fly away.”


I stare at the stem,

Just sitting in the vase,

“Why keep the stem then?”


The old man just smiled,

“Because, I always hope,”

“It might bloom again.”



*Old original poem*


I have a rose,

One without petals.


It had bloomed once,

And wilted without warning.

I let the petals fly away.


But I kept the stem,

In that vase.


People ask me,

Why I keep that ugly thing.


Maybe because,

A little birdie told me to.

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