The Rose

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A Red rose, among a field of white.
You are different,
And yet, more beautiful than all others.

The wind carries your name and scent,
Farther than you know.
You don’t know that all the other flowers,
Sulk with jealousy.

With every passing day your petals bloom forth
A glorious vision.
You take the rain in life, and make it into something beautiful.

Let your beauty shine forth, for only then will you be,
A red rose, among a field of white.





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