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A poem about flowers |
| Questionable Controversy Through the grounds of infertility, From times of desolation, Springs a being most happy, And full of anticipation. Effecting a change in the wind, A change in body and mind, Brightening that once dimmed, Opening discoveries to find. It sprouts and blooms, Flourishes in spite of itself, Dissipates all the gloom, And the doom is left to melt. But once more, The wind turns, Leaving nought to adore, Beauty itself burns. There may still be power, Something not to lie, But is a flower still a flower, After all the petals die? Rhys Denovan |