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Apr 2018
Flowers, they bloom—
where they are planted, wanted, and loved.

In rays of sunshine,
in sad drops of rain,

sometimes, in still waters,
petals wither.

Like heavy hearts,
in silence, weeps—
it withers.

Despite of, the beauty
in dried flowers,
you will still see,
from colors that fade—

Hope that never withers.
Written by
francesca  F
(F)   
223
   Colm and Jo Barber
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