The Flower

It stands alone,

Colorless in the sun.

Even the grass Beneth 

Isn't Green.

 

As the Flower

Lonely waits,

For some color

To come along.

 

The insects buzz,

all day and night.

As the sun and moon 

Shine their bright light.

 

The flower still stands.

The flower still thrives.

The flower still hoping,

To shine its own light.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

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