She stood in awe of beauty
that caused her heart to speak,
weeds flourished in abundance
’round this flower, so unique.
Her heart would have her sever ties
to hold it in her hand
her mind accepts that holding it
was never in the plan.
And so it grows, a single rose
secure within its thicket, but
she wonders… would the rose oppose
or be flattered if she picked it?

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