Somewhere out there
on a field, there is a tulip
more beatiful than any other.

Yet no one knows of it's existence,
it's just another flower

As winter approaches its life slowly fades away,
suddenly a hiker passes its way.

The withered flower goes unnoticed
Its just another dried up thing.
In the end noone cared about its beauty,
not the hiker, no worker nor the king.

It stood there very confident
However if that plant hadn't been there



nothing would be different