It could have fit
If you really
Really wanted it to
But you didn’t
You let them all wilt
As the days went on
They lost life
And all coloration
Dreary and sad
i have a vase that i filled with water. i thought about filling it with irises becasue they’re my favorite flower but i was at walmart and saw a little fishy and i bought it and brought it back and put it in my pretty new vase.
“Let go! Let go of it before it breaks!” I continued yelling. And she let go. The vase broke. My mother’s favorite vase broke into a million pieces. Little did I know that the incident would be a foreshadow to my relationship with my sister.
when i think about vases, i think about sunflowers. i love sunflowers. they make me happy and they make me want to be more than myself. i also love tulips which you can also put in a vase. their my favorite too. i wish i had acres and acres of just tulips and sunflowers:)
there is a thing on the table and i don’t like it cause it’s empty, it should have flowers in it but someone hardly gave me anything so it just sits there, empty. i could buy flowers and put them in the vase but then it would remind me that i had to buy them myself.
He gave the flowers; in quite the quick shove, might I add. I kind of didn’t know what to do with them, but took them hastily in order for them not to fall. Placing them in mother’s vase was the kindest i’d do for them.
vases are vague is description and in shape and style. a vase can hold many things but not know to hold many things… sit and pounder about what really a vase is…
A vase is an interesting object in which we keep flowers. We could do other things with a vase such as drink out of it, but we think we are too good to drink out of a vase and that they are only meant to be a container for flowers who don’t even need to be ‘contained’ since they don’t move anywhere.
I put my feelings in a vase because I have no respect for my feelings. A vase makes them tough to escape but even tougher to add new ones to the mix. I’m not a flower, but I do flow, in a sort a of endless figure out of base-ness. Not free base, but vases aren’t free either, so that’s the fact, jack. I somehow gained extra time and will use it to express my integrity and insistence on the importance of following rules. A human being is nothing without their character, whicf
A vase is an interesting object in which we keep flowers. We could do things like drink out of them, but we feel we are too good to be like the flowers so we only use them to contain these flowers that can’t even escape and therefore have no reason to be ‘contained’ in the first place.
There’s a broken vase on the floor. Just laying there because I’m too tired to pick it up. And I feel bad for it. I really do. It’s broken and no one cares about it. It’s sad.
I walked in the room i saw her standing there with the vase halfway balanced on the table with her one finger.As I uttered the word “sorry” she lifted her finger…
the beautiful glass vase sat on the table where the sun glowed illuminating those luscious lavender roses. The vase was given to her from her grandmother,
there once was a vase. i green vase. in this vase contained soil and a seed. the seed, was the seed of on orchid. the orchid would bloom a lavender color later on if you watered it right.
a glass holding water and flowers meant with love
sitting atop the table they never eat at anymore
the vessel is filled with the love that they never speak of anymore
The sunlight streamed in, gently breathing on the vase as it sat atop the counter. It had been there for as long as anyone could remember. Dust accumulated on its every inch, and yet it still held this indescribable sense of beauty. The flowers in it were long past dead, wilted, past recognition, a gaggle of dried corpses retaining the last of their prime.
So once there was a vase that was filled with beautiful purple flowers. Jessica bought this vase from Target on sale for 5 dollars. Her mother thought it was a waste but she loved it!
flowers are in it, but you can’t win it, life is just a dream, but deep down you know which is the right team, so are you gonna let it slide or fight fight fight
Wtffff! Everyone I know got a vase. Zai is gay also. Bcuz i lub hem. like heil. oMGOMGOMGOMGOGMOGMOGJ.
I had caps onnn….. It was so speshal tooooo~!
oMGOMG
Time
I think it would be cool to make one into a bong if i got a downstem from a head shop. my mom has some really nice ones ryan taverna was the one who gave me the idea to make abong out of it you put flowers in them
Unarmed, I defended myself as best I could. I grabbed the nearest thing I could find. Unfortunately the vase was cheap and thin. It did little more than cover him with smelly water and flower pollen.
I was walking slowly down the hall, when my jacket pocket caught on the vase. It fell so swiftly and quietly that it shocked me when it crashed to the ground. I heard a scream from the other end of the house, and knew that something was amiss. My mother. She knew the importance of what I had done, and the consequences that were sure to follow.
The vase fell to the floor. Crashing. My temples felt as though they were going to explode. All I could hear was my mother: “Oh, you’re never going to make it,” “Oh, get a job,” “Oh, put the gun away, son!”
The flowe sits in the vase and keeps life breifly. It won’t last forever and it depresses the world. Keep it safe and keep it wattered the world needs life!!!
The vase was tall, thin, and opaque. It was dreamy and surreal, almost ethereal. The creamy white-ish tint was reminiscent of milk dropped in water – it had the same swirling eddies and snaking tendrils floating across the glass surface.
A crystal vase sits in the window seal in my kitchen. It’s awesome because it was my grandma’s and it came from Italy. I have another vase from her that has a sprig of eucalyptus in it. I love them!
A vase is some hollow crap you use to put flowers in. I love ’em. Well, kinda. How do you pronounce vase anyways? I mean, some people in other cultures say it weird. Idunno. Hm.. My phone just went off. I really wanna.. “I was sixteen. Met you out in ohio” haha. What a great freaking song.hb
Vase is what holds love and memories, so that you don’t feel alone and know you are in others thoughts.
It could have fit
If you really
Really wanted it to
But you didn’t
You let them all wilt
As the days went on
They lost life
And all coloration
Dreary and sad
i have a vase that i filled with water. i thought about filling it with irises becasue they’re my favorite flower but i was at walmart and saw a little fishy and i bought it and brought it back and put it in my pretty new vase.
“Let go! Let go of it before it breaks!” I continued yelling. And she let go. The vase broke. My mother’s favorite vase broke into a million pieces. Little did I know that the incident would be a foreshadow to my relationship with my sister.
when i think about vases, i think about sunflowers. i love sunflowers. they make me happy and they make me want to be more than myself. i also love tulips which you can also put in a vase. their my favorite too. i wish i had acres and acres of just tulips and sunflowers:)
there is a thing on the table and i don’t like it cause it’s empty, it should have flowers in it but someone hardly gave me anything so it just sits there, empty. i could buy flowers and put them in the vase but then it would remind me that i had to buy them myself.
Fragile, that’s what vases are.
She had broken it at her feet, her mother’s prized vase. It fell with a clatter to the ground, smashing into tiny, refined little pieces. She gasped.
As far as she was concerned, she was dead.
She could see it now, her mother’s furrowed brow, looking down at her with disapproval. “What did you do here?” She’d say.
He gave the flowers; in quite the quick shove, might I add. I kind of didn’t know what to do with them, but took them hastily in order for them not to fall. Placing them in mother’s vase was the kindest i’d do for them.
vases are vague is description and in shape and style. a vase can hold many things but not know to hold many things… sit and pounder about what really a vase is…
it shattered as it hit the floor.
she didn’t care
i cried
she didn’t care
but the flowers sure as hell did.
they cried too
A vase is an interesting object in which we keep flowers. We could do other things with a vase such as drink out of it, but we think we are too good to drink out of a vase and that they are only meant to be a container for flowers who don’t even need to be ‘contained’ since they don’t move anywhere.
your vase wasn’t so clear,
actually i don’t think it was ever even there.
you found no use for it,
so i’ll just take out my flowers and store it.
…..is esav backwards.
that’s about the extent of my creativity for today.
on the bright side, there’s a fake fishtank next to me that looks slightly like a vase.
also…..
vase.
I put my feelings in a vase because I have no respect for my feelings. A vase makes them tough to escape but even tougher to add new ones to the mix. I’m not a flower, but I do flow, in a sort a of endless figure out of base-ness. Not free base, but vases aren’t free either, so that’s the fact, jack. I somehow gained extra time and will use it to express my integrity and insistence on the importance of following rules. A human being is nothing without their character, whicf
A vase is an interesting object in which we keep flowers. We could do things like drink out of them, but we feel we are too good to be like the flowers so we only use them to contain these flowers that can’t even escape and therefore have no reason to be ‘contained’ in the first place.
I think of a flower. Or something that I want to use to hit a future mother in law on the head with. Yeah that’s what you’re best for. Pain.
I think of a flower. Or something that I want to use to hit a future mother in law on the head with. Yeah that’s what you’re best for. Pain.
There’s a broken vase on the floor. Just laying there because I’m too tired to pick it up. And I feel bad for it. I really do. It’s broken and no one cares about it. It’s sad.
I walked in the room i saw her standing there with the vase halfway balanced on the table with her one finger.As I uttered the word “sorry” she lifted her finger…
the beautiful glass vase sat on the table where the sun glowed illuminating those luscious lavender roses. The vase was given to her from her grandmother,
“Oh, no!” muttered Freddie under his breath. “There goes mother’s vase!”
Freddie immediately started shouting at Vi. She shivered slightly and trembled under his furious glare.
He shook her, “What were you thinking?” he said. “Mother hasn’t picked a new one out yet!”
there once was a vase. i green vase. in this vase contained soil and a seed. the seed, was the seed of on orchid. the orchid would bloom a lavender color later on if you watered it right.
a glass holding water and flowers meant with love
sitting atop the table they never eat at anymore
the vessel is filled with the love that they never speak of anymore
The sunlight streamed in, gently breathing on the vase as it sat atop the counter. It had been there for as long as anyone could remember. Dust accumulated on its every inch, and yet it still held this indescribable sense of beauty. The flowers in it were long past dead, wilted, past recognition, a gaggle of dried corpses retaining the last of their prime.
I’m up for a round two. My real name is Phobophobic.*
It’s a rapist’s name.
Which is why I chose it. Because I despise their kind.
Like I hate Zai.
And whyyyy won’t this time
So once there was a vase that was filled with beautiful purple flowers. Jessica bought this vase from Target on sale for 5 dollars. Her mother thought it was a waste but she loved it!
flowers are in it, but you can’t win it, life is just a dream, but deep down you know which is the right team, so are you gonna let it slide or fight fight fight
Wtffff! Everyone I know got a vase. Zai is gay also. Bcuz i lub hem. like heil. oMGOMGOMGOMGOGMOGMOGJ.
I had caps onnn….. It was so speshal tooooo~!
oMGOMG
Time
It’s pronounced vaaas. Oh that reminds me of a novel I once read, vas and opera flatland. Vas was short for vasectomy. It was lovely.
I think it would be cool to make one into a bong if i got a downstem from a head shop. my mom has some really nice ones ryan taverna was the one who gave me the idea to make abong out of it you put flowers in them
Unarmed, I defended myself as best I could. I grabbed the nearest thing I could find. Unfortunately the vase was cheap and thin. It did little more than cover him with smelly water and flower pollen.
I was walking slowly down the hall, when my jacket pocket caught on the vase. It fell so swiftly and quietly that it shocked me when it crashed to the ground. I heard a scream from the other end of the house, and knew that something was amiss. My mother. She knew the importance of what I had done, and the consequences that were sure to follow.
The vase fell to the floor. Crashing. My temples felt as though they were going to explode. All I could hear was my mother: “Oh, you’re never going to make it,” “Oh, get a job,” “Oh, put the gun away, son!”
don’t place me in your vase
don’t place your vase on the top shelf of your bookcase
i don’t want to be a part of your showcase
and be displaced
The flowe sits in the vase and keeps life breifly. It won’t last forever and it depresses the world. Keep it safe and keep it wattered the world needs life!!!
He stared down at the shattered fragments of the vase, his big blue eyes wide and terrified as his uncle stormed into the room.
“What have you done this time, boy?”
Upon seeing the shattered porcelain pieces on the tiles, his mouth snapped shut, and his brown eyes, the color of weak tea, narrowed in rage.
“I-I’m sorry, uncle.” The boy stuttered nervously.
The vase was tall, thin, and opaque. It was dreamy and surreal, almost ethereal. The creamy white-ish tint was reminiscent of milk dropped in water – it had the same swirling eddies and snaking tendrils floating across the glass surface.
A crystal vase sits in the window seal in my kitchen. It’s awesome because it was my grandma’s and it came from Italy. I have another vase from her that has a sprig of eucalyptus in it. I love them!
I love it as I got the vase for my birthday from my
A vase is some hollow crap you use to put flowers in. I love ’em. Well, kinda. How do you pronounce vase anyways? I mean, some people in other cultures say it weird. Idunno. Hm.. My phone just went off. I really wanna.. “I was sixteen. Met you out in ohio” haha. What a great freaking song.hb