Like a boomerang,
You throw it
And if it comes back,
It is for keeps
Like a garden,
You plant,
And cultivate,
Weed,
Then harvest.
Like a book,
You read the first chapter,
If it is interesting
You keep it,
If not,
You toss it in the bin.
Like a flower,
In the garden,
You pluck it,
Without constant watering,
It withers and dies.
Like the ocean,
It is calm,
In a storm,
It roars and rocks the boat.
© thelma migue, 2009
I see decisions...choices...and coming back...or going away inadvertently...
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