Often, I think of past friendships and the hurt they have caused. Stories such as these could fill volumes of books, but I won’t share them.

As I age, I try to concentrate on my reaction to any action. Hurtful questions rear their ugly heads, but I can only answer them for myself. I cannot give in to a power that snatches me from my imprinted character. I can only realize that their selfish motivations scattered seeds that grew new roses in my garden of life. For this, I can only be grateful because now I know better.

One Comment

  1. Journe'

    Beautiful….for me, 2020 has been the “Year of Roses.” Theres been so many thorns, but so much beauty growing among those thorns.

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