A lovely pink flower

Carried by the wind

With beauty as its power

No one knows where it’s been

Its endured countless showers

Blown through storms upwind

Burned in the sun for hours

Happiness it can only imagine

It only sees its errors

Satisfaction paper thin

Yet others see what lies above

rather than lying within

So a lovely pink flower

is where its story begins

and a lovely pink flower

it will remain till its dusk has risen

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