You are the life of a dying star.

You are the smell of a fresh strawberry that was just picked from the flower  garden.

You are the melody ringing in my ear when I am down in the  darkest cave.

You are a pink tulip running towards 10 million dollars because you need more money to be more loved.

You are the reason I wake up every single day to go to school.

You are a beautiful  tinker bell with a magic wand.

You are Sunday with an Icey morning and a tired beam.

You are an oak  tree watching the  children play in the morning.

You are my morning milkshake and my night time song.

You are my Paris with caramel and sprinkles on top.

You are the start of my end. 

this is the point where i stop