Love is like the beautiful red rose you pick yours and work from bottom up moving up trying not to get hurt by the many and painful thorns not wanting to hurt it the pain the thorns give could make you drop it and possible pick another but always remembering the time you were in pain once you reach the top you find it was well worth it the sight so captivating the essence so sweet the over all felling is wonderful now i find myself along with many others traveling up the rose to recieve the glorious gift at the top
Reason for writing:
just thinking about a girl
Birth sign: Not entered
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