The Brook



She took the flower,
the flower she took,
that came down with the water,
that came down with the brook.

She kissed every petal,
every petal so sweet,
from an invisible lover,
she might never meet.

She looked up at the heavens,
the vast empty sky,
looked down at the flower,
and started to cry.

She dropped the flower,
dropped it back into the brook,
along with some tears,
from her heart that she took.

She then dried her eyes,
dried her eyes on a dream,
turned her back on the tears,
and started upstream.

For there will be more flowers,
more flowers will be,
far away from her tears,
that now flow to the sea.

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Angie's Diary