I put myself to the fire every day; tested by fire in every way.
And who quenches my drought with the morning dew?
Or the pail of water under my bed, dumped on my head?

__________________
"Tell me what you see; and I'll know where you are"
~~cc

I gave love; you gave me a thistle;
We shared tenderness; then you ran away;
I planted a rose; and you blossomed;
I had fresh hopes; tho' winter froze them solid

But what if I don't wanna? I'm too busy stealing the honey from the customers' fanny packs!

__________________
Time is the distance that you can't return by miles.

I escaped somehow. Let's go

actualy [sic] I have quite a blessed life if I'm honest. I have many people to love, hate few and have few money problem's [sic].... What more does a person need? Oh yeah and I have some kind of humbleness unlike you of course ^_^ ~ CarefulCarpenter

duplicate

__________________
"Tell me what you see; and I'll know where you are"
~~cc

I gave love; you gave me a thistle;
We shared tenderness; then you ran away;
I planted a rose; and you blossomed;
I had fresh hopes; tho' winter froze them solid

Prostitution and thievery have always been drawn to the Koosh Coach tribe. Who do you think made it to the front of the train? We all prostitute and thieve one way or another. I choose not to rob myself of the lesser treasures found by serving and walking the trail now and then. I don't judge those who choose to ride fast and dream of luxury; I do enjoy knowing that I did my waving and waiving, 'cause I sleep better knowing I care about more than myself(ego). Everyone should have a choice. You will find many on both ends of the train who were born without a choice to get off and walk now and then. Often we are chosen at birth--or people take on a belief system that places themselves and their kin in the front car. This is arrogance, not intelligence or genetic superiority.

__________________
"Tell me what you see; and I'll know where you are"
~~cc

I gave love; you gave me a thistle;
We shared tenderness; then you ran away;
I planted a rose; and you blossomed;
I had fresh hopes; tho' winter froze them solid

I know I've said this before, but seriously Soph, your obsession with wildflowers (because poets write about flowers - how would anyone know you were a poet if you didn't say wildflowers were better than sex?!) is downright weird.