She began as a bud, Burning in the hot sun, Crying silent tears as everyone bloomed around her. But then she began to think, No more tears. And she straightened her stem, Stretching toward the sun. She drank of nutrients, Feeding on the goodness around her. She stopped comparing herself to the flowers around her, Stopped cowering in fear of their opinions of what she should be. And she grew. She bloomed. No longer did the other flowers keep her down, She learned to bloom in colors of her own. And she spread her scent, Delicately, sweetly, strong enough to be smelled by passersby. And she waited. For someone to see her beauty, to smell her sweetness. And as she bloomed, she reached out, To the other buds and blooms around her. She spread her sunshine and life, Giving it to all she met. She began to see the beauty around her. The blue sky above her, the green grass below her, The birds that sang their sweet songs, The bees that drank of her nectar and brought her life from the flowers around her. But then she saw the trees, And suddenly she bean to feel very small. But she bloomed in spite of it. She accepted herself as a flower. What did it matter if she was not a tree? Or if others thought she should be one? She was created to be a flower, To bloom, to bring color to life, to spread a sweet scent. And that was something a tree could not do. So she bloomed, unhindered by the trees. And she dwelled in confidence, In assurance that she was becoming who she needed to be. And so she bloomed, Even in the winter. Because she knew who she was and what she was supposed to be. And even though she knew not what tomorrow would bring, She knew there were good things ahead. And so, She bloomed.
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