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Array
(
[sid] => 16758
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Flower
[time] => 2003-04-30 08:05:00
[hometext] => Please leave comments.
[bodytext] => There is a field of flowers,
Colorful, beautiful flowers. But there is one special flower, That stands alone in that field, Growing tward the sun. Each day it grows a little taller, A little brighter. Until it rains, The rain feels so good, But to much rain, Will kill the flower. The flower doesn't know that, It just knows the feeling of pleasure, Dangerous pleasure. One day, the flower is stepped on, Forgotten. The flower wants to die, Be no more. When the rains stops, A mother and her son come, picking flowers in the field. The son comes across, the withered, betrayed flower. "Mommy, I want this one." The mother looks at the flower. "No dear, you don't want that flower, It is sick." The child looks thoughtfully at the dying flower. "But Mommy, can't we take it home and make it better? It needs help, Can I help it, Mommy?" The mother smiled at her sons concern, And determination for the flower. "Yes Dear, the flower needs help, Lets help it." The mother and son walked home, hand in hand. When they got there, The mother gave her son the most beautiful, Vase they owned. He filled it with water, And set the flower in it. He placed the vase next to a window, Where sun always poured in. Now, once again, the little flower Grows up to the sun. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 272 [topic] => 31 [informant] => Desi [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 8 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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