my flower bucket.

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i fill my bucket with flowers.

i start to walk down the street.

i meet you halfway down the block,

you're staring at your feet.

i continue on my walk,

mindlessly humming a tune.

trying to find any purpose to this world,

as it will all end soon.

i see a little blue boy,

crying on his own.

he seems quite upset,

for he doesn't have a home.

i look up at the scintillating sun,

how dare you be so bright?

this world is dark here,

yet comes alive at night.

i sigh to myself.

it's time to put

this dusty book

back onto it's shelf.

it's quiet.

it's dark.

it's sad and it's true.

i question why i stick with you

why do i keep waking up,

day by day,

perhaps i'm just far too afraid to say;

this is bullshit.

why do i keep going back

to this job that i hate?

filled with people who steal my flowers.

is this truly fate?

with these thoughts running through my mind,

i turn back around.

i make my way home.

i ignore the sound.

i ignore the sobs.

the silent screams of pain.

'YOU DON'T WANT TO BE HERE'

shouts my brain.

however i can't bring myself to leave

this world that i hate.

i have to stay here,

wait for fate.

as i pass the blue boy,

he looks up at me

he smiles with his tear stained face

as if to say he were happy.

i hand him a flower,

a piece of my heart,

he takes it gracefully

and so i leave.

i continue to walk,

slower and slower,

staring at the moon,

wishing it were lower

it is now night,

as i pass by you once more.

i look at you,

your eyes still fixated on the floor.

once more, i take a flower.

from my bucket it's retrieved.

i hand it to you.

you look relieved.

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