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Perhaps you weren't born with flowers on your tongue Or roots to hold your heart firm You may not have fruits growing on your arms to hand over some But, oh little one, that's why God made seeds Of kindness, of politeness, of gratitude for surviving Plant them in your soul but do cut out all the weeds Of hatred, of envy, of malice and greed Soon all of you shall blossom and bloom Into something worth adoring Worth loving Worth dreaming of Worth planting in souls to have more Blossoms like you
— your blooming soul
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