Florist's Daughter
This legacy you left was not silver or gold for me to barter through the years, but memories of peonies, iris, daffodils, and tulips, and how you dried my childish tears, hoe in hand, love upon your face.
This legacy you left was not silver or gold for me to barter through the years, but memories of peonies, iris, daffodils, and tulips, and how you dried my childish tears, hoe in hand, love upon your face.
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