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wither

She’s a wild flower
A species so rare
No place she calls home

She despised her silhouette
Even once tried to erase
Her very own shadow under the sun

Oh yet,
Life has decided
To give her a second chance

She just found a place
For her to show her petals
Where creatures would feed off her

She has just about to bloom
And declare significance
Yet the evil wind tosses her away

Life, for her,
Is just about to start.
Yet,
The thunderstorm is drifting her apart.

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