Lake Angela
A vase, a potted plant, a world of rosy-coloured thoughts; It could never be so bad. The streets all intertwine like snakes of bad tidings. But it could never be so bad. Never. We all grew up in a different world. We were taught to think in pessimisms. Flowers died in people’s gardens, but mine are full of potted plants and a bed of roses. The sunset, I like the way it moves, dances to the waves.No idea when I wrote this. Probably middle school (1996?) Written January 10th, 2002 © on Jan 09 2002 07:00 PM PST 0 • 12
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"A vase, a potted plant,..."