A hopeless flower soon to decay. Her petals wilted, leaves all fallen. The colours had all left with dismay. Perhaps she left her heart too open. Tears flow down from the bulb’s rotting heart. Facing the ground as her petals fall. How did this happen from the start? “Is there a way I could stop it all?” The little flower head held oh so low-- —thinking she knew but somehow so wrong “All I want is for him to love me so, And to care for me with feelings so strong”
I think if I were to choose one thing for everyone to know about me, it would be that I absolutely adore my friends. Both my friend groups at NMMI and back at home mean the absolute world to me.