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So perfect but flawed at the same time
Like this poem will be
It probably won't rhyme
If it does it will ****
Because I'm trying to think of words
And I'm just kinda stuck
Writing my feelings, though you probably don't care
So if you're on my page and you don't like it at all
**beware
I'm sorry for the bad poem. I'll try and make a better one later.
A garden of marigolds....orange, yellow and rust,
Bright, soft and rich, touched with golden dust.

Quiet and regal, sun kissed and fair,
Basil -citrus fragrance that mellows the moist air.

A thousand smiling marigolds, a thousand smiling suns,
Sweet nectar, ambrosia, for natures gentle ones.

Woven into garlands, yellow with tips  of red,
Woven into memories with many a words unsaid.

Love's hopes of an Indian  bride, clad in marigold,
With dreams wrought,  promises that two hearts dearly hold.

Tearful farewell to soldiers who traverse through destiny's doors,
A garland weaved with love for  those from across the seven shores.

And when the being is but a thought, as life grays and  olds,
Wrapped in a hearse of love, their love, with weeping marigolds.

An offering so humble yet flowers that Gods wear,
An offering with love,  with a souls quiet prayers.

Orange, yellow, rust..to love, to pray, to mourn,
Golden, sun kissed, blessed.. marigolds that life adorn.
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