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One dewy morn in early Fall,
Whilst walking past a hedgerow,
I chanced to see a fresh-bloomed rose,
Inside it was a rainbow!
The sun was shining bright,
Until a cloud there came upon,
I gazed upon the rose once more,
The sun no longer shone.
Those pretty coloured drops of dew,
No more my rose had kept,
As though in tears the dark clouds burst,
Bucketsful they wept.
They watered all my darkness,
Till they washed it all away,
And through the lightening drizzle,
Then I saw a hopeful ray.
I followed where it came from,
With an ever watchful eye,
Up to a cobalt patch of blue,
Expanding in the sky.
A shining band of light there stretched,
Of lovely colours seven,
My rose had only borrowed,
For they had returned to heaven!
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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