Something to share from when I first learned I love to write. Enjoy!
He loves me, he loves me not,
As children, we are taught.
To listen to what the flowers say,
When we ask them yea or nay.
Each pedal, a memory lost,
A reminder of what love cost.
Every flower, a new daydream,
A reminder of what love can bring.
He loves me, he loves me...not.
As children, this is what we're taught....