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Twelve Red Roses
They are the only ones who brighten my life. I am the only one receives them. Twelve red roses with a ribbon tied around and a card to match. Twelve that mean more than the whole garden. Twelve that bring a smile to my face on a bad day. Just one glance from these roses and the butterflies fly and goose bumps appear.
Their presence is secret. They send mixed messages at times and make me want to give in. They yell and scream and hug and comfort, but always keep things interesting and me coming back for more. I love the unexpected.
Let one forget his reason for being, one would wilt and die off, causing the others to follow in a familiar path. Hold on, hold on, hold on, roses whisper when it’s quiet. They know.
When I am too hurt and too tired to keep holding on, when I am hanging by a thread against so much weight, then it is I find something to hold me up. When there is nothing left to keep going for. Twelve who grow without their roots. Twelve who even though are cut cannot let go. Twelve whose only reason is to, despite the odds, blossom bigger each day.
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