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Birth of Bud

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Rejection ends where hopeful buds do grow
we lie in field of bare and broken bone
man-made winds have attempted to unsew
yet we hold, facing off to the unknown.
When first we flew out of bolder, dark, sharp thorns
age of passion was fresh in eyes of loved
however, the lust of yearning is still scorned
still future of we voyagers bright – beloved!
But unwilling eyes lead constant hearts astray
only love, trust saving us from their greedy points
rough doubts and questioning silence may fray
won’t cave in to broken land – for we are joint.
Now, we rise as one upon barren rock
growing life – the beauty of our budding flock.



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