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A florist looks at a rosebush
One sunny springtime day
And cuts off every perfect rose
And throws the rest away
A child sees the rosebush there
And picks it up to find
one tiny crimson rosebud
A rose, in a small child's mind
He takes the rosebush home with him
And plants it in the ground
Waters it, cares for it
And pulls the weeds around
The rosebud in the centre
Begins to blossom soon
Then new buds begin to form
In the sun of summer's noon
And then in early Autumn's heat
The florist, walking by
Sees the perfect crimson rose
That he had left to die

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The following comments are for "Potential"
by FireSerpent

More Potential...Ivor
Hey, this got four 10s yesterday, including mine. I wouldn't have risked posting it again!


( Posted by: ivordavies [Member] On: June 25, 2004 )

I don't know how that happened, I only posted it once!

( Posted by: FireSerpent [Member] On: June 25, 2004 )

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