One. a poem for my hurtiesing fwends

(c)2012 /

sometimes we feel like behind bars,
imprisoned, forgotten and unimportant.

sometimes we feel like ship.

but then we need to feel our own roots

to rediscover our twue stwength,
and see that paw extended,
that helping hand,

and our petals open to the powers of sun,

taking in the cool comfort of wind,

and the nourishing rain some,

as we

lift our leaves,
and just be,
that important,







One Response to “One. a poem for my hurtiesing fwends”

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