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Home » Poetry » Issue 2 » Pink Flower

Pink Flower

I am unventured and kept away like granny’s fine china.
I’m an antique never losing beauty or value as I age.
I am the cradle of life,
The provider of a cycle, no anatomy can convey my complexity.
I am the blossoming rose that never dies.
So, stand and glare at my glorious craft.
I am the sweet delicate flower the sweet.