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A lovely pink flower
Carried by the wind
With beauty as its power
No one knows where it’s been
Its endured countless showers
Blown through storms upwind
Burned in the sun for hours
Happiness it can only imagine
It only sees its errors
Satisfaction paper thin
Yet others see what lies above
rather than lying within
So a lovely pink flower
is where its story begins
and a lovely pink flower
it will remain till its dusk has risen
