A flower reached for skies so bright,
But found only shadow, never light.
Its petals shrank, its colors bled,
A fragile beauty, left for dead.
The soil was cruel, the winds untrue,
No rain to kiss, no morning dew.
A flower, born to bloom and thrive,
But never felt itself alive.
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Now it rots where hope once lay,
A flower, forgotten, turned to gray.
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