Monday, 17 May 2010


cold and solid,
hard, impenetrable,
over the long, dark winter,
let the sunshine in,
and the tears of the sky.

Now a flower grows,
a vulnerable little bloom,
so courageous,
surrounded by dead stone,
daring to rise,
defying a cold, unfeeling world,
making it more beautiful.

My trials are never easy,
but never hard as yours.
Be brave, little blossom;
keep struggling toward the sun,
and glowing there.
I'll give you water when I can,
and learn to love my life.

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