| My roots have made a home
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| Deep in the layers of loam
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| I have sprouted some leaves
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| Released my seed, I am blossoming
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| Frail petals clenching fragile stalk
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| A life so beautiful
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| A life so delicate
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| Sands through the seam of the time keeper
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| Have we learned how to number our days
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| The hands of time will transform and shape
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| The silk in my wings is fair
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| I don’t question who I’m called to be
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| The gardener didn’t request a fern or a tree
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| He chose to plant me
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| So I’ll bloom, and that’s what I’ll be
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| The very best version of me
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| To honor him, I won’t stop growing till its complete
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| I’ll bring beauty to dormancy
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| Transient creations
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| Made precious by mortality
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| Vulnerable, exposed
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| My beauty offers no armor
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| Winter reveals its sharp sting
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| A chill breeze that’s overbearing
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| The vary moment is fleeting
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| The color in my veins have turned to grey
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| Frail petals clenching fragile stalk
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| A wind that passes and comes not again
|
| Sands through the seem of the time keeper
|
| Have we learned how to number our days
|
| The hands of time will transform and shape
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| The silk in my wings is dead
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| The prettiest of things waste
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| Will waste
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| We waste |