Even flowers grow where destruction lays,
When trees have fallen in a blaze.
She stands against the weeds and drought,
Against hungry birds and weather's hard routes.
If I could have her silent strength
And tell it to the world at length,
If I could have her confidence
As to not compare my looks to that of other flowers hence,
If I could have her simple life
And not be worried with meaningless strife,
I could stand against any storm, weed, or bird.
Her deceptively hidden strength is rarely heard,
But she will stand on the most important days
Because even flowers grow where destruction lays.