Singing to Flowers

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Flowers growing out of iron
with stems freshly snipped off
I hoped this would be a plentiful spring
and, while garish, it failed on all fronts

It's been the very first bloom in ages
one grown out of a hellish storm
I hoped it would be the last one
but alas, the sun comes up

I suppose the petals were too subtle
didn't catch the full melody of your song
I hoped your words would nurture their spirits
But your voice wilted along the way

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