They say growing up, everyone goes there separate ways.
you say were like a river flowing together,
you say one day our sacred river will stitch apart.
your probably right.
everything changes.
things come and go,
thats the simple yet difficult part in life.
I believe some rivers flow into the same ocean.
besides where all water anyways.

This poem is short and sweet,
like a strawberry plant.
This poem will be over before you know it,
just like you.

once in a town not far from a crick,
lived a young man by the name of Jack
Jack visited this crick daily,
it made him calm.
it gave him happiness,
it was his way of getting away from the town.
Jack had  a fear,
jacks fear is water.
He knew someday he would have to over come this.
That was the same night Jack decided to go swimming,
after he said goodbye to his family and friends.
He then left the town.
The next day he found washed up onto the meadow
next to his favorite crick.
Jack was dead.