I was asked what one does if they have a cf that would keep them from sending a rose. Well I have some suggestions 1. Ignore such a rule of a cf if you can't even send a non-stat item such as a rose and kindly tell that person you will play your own game. 2. You can just send the rose and ask for it to be held or rejected after it is counted so you won't upset any particular person/s. 3. Be so unruly that you decide to send roses all day and night and spam the wall with roses too. However, I suggest maybe going with 2, and making the amount of drama less for yourself since I can understand how serious some take the game. We do not encourage prompting the boogieman. Goodluck
But... but.. I like to poke the bear. Rattle the cages and then release them. It’s more exciting that way
Roses are red violets are blue, UN beware Rosie is comming for u. Night or day u dont need to pray, because she’ll heat up your nf anyway! Now have a great day cause this Rose is here to stay!
Roses are red you're one of my best friends. Loyal and true I'm nothing without you! Gorgeous and kind you're one of a kind, and last but not least I love you!!
If a rose equals beauty I would have to fill the heavens to match your eternal grace (message with rose gift) A rose is a mystical flower, adored by most It grows in tough conditions, offered guests by every gracious host With petals soft like silk it demands attention A colour like blood it’s a mighty fine invention If you treat it carefully it’s beauty will be yours If you approach too fast you’ll get stung by the thorns love, Noora
My entry is a poem / Spoken word thing. I don't know you at all Rosie, but I like to think everyone has a dark, dangerous side. Like the thorns of a rose. This is kind of reflecting that... It's written from the perspective of a admirer. And they're using the rose as a metaphor for there love. ♡♡♡♡♡♡ When I first met her, she was perfect. All soft edges and bright colours, With a personality to match. The bright cherry red, enticed me, Drawing me in - alongside her honeysuckle scent. Better than an artificial perfume anyday. Then, I paused to study her a little bit more, Where I then realised. She was far from perfect. The odd soft curve, tinted brown played peekaboo from the initial layers. Some petals lay torn, wrinkled creased...she was perfectly imperfect. When I reached out, and pricked my finger on the sharp edges of her wall, I winced. Deep blood red, oozed from my skin - a juxtaphisition to the beauty before me. And I Realised What that saying meant. "Beauty is in the eye of her beholder" Because I realised, it was true. I loved every part of the form before me. Inperfections and all,for they told a story - of a lived life. Only when you accept the good and the bad of someone, or something. Can you truly understand the beauty.