Three Hours Of Flowers Poem by Twisted Moon

Three hours of flowers once again,
And we were never promised a rose garden,
Take the time to be true, exactly who we are,
As we dance among the twisted moon and tangled stars.

The horses run freely in the field,
Never thinking to stop, never thinking to yield,
Yet me and you hesitate with every word we say,
So much so that we just get in eachother's way,
These horses are free,
Their eyes are open, they can see,
Why can't we?

Why must we hide ourselves from this?
Why must we neglect such a heart-warming bliss?
We can be so much more if we just try,
Instead we shield our eyes and hope for it to die.

Nothing in this world will ever be perfect,
Even the most beautiful things have a defect,
You can only have snowflakes in the coldest snows,
And it's the worst rain that makes the most magnificent rainbows.

So although this is something so very wrong,
It's the beginning of something that will last for so long,
I know this is hard, and I know this will hurt,
But we can't have three hours of flowers unless we begin with dirt.