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Coquelicot

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Where you afraid?
Afraid to grow? Afraid to be beautiful?
Concealed within the dirt we trample on, you were hidden. Growing.
When you imerged into the sun, bringing with you imperfects that only make you beautiful. Only make you real.
And you grow, and leave behind a song. One not many can hear, humming quietly int he wind.
And I can hear it. I can feel it. You are beautiful,
beautiful to me, because your song is what I see.





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