Growth

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I see myself as an un-blooming flower
with petals made from my excuses
and accomplishments.
They will one day fall to the ground beneath me,
meaningless except in memory.
While they live,
others awe at their beauty and delicacy.
I criticize the ones that aren't quite the right shape or color.
Some will shrivel quickly; these will be the lies that someone didn't believe,
whether this is to show the second layer or to get rid of the first is unclear.
Some will flourish; these will be the trophies and medals on the wall, the framed photographs of love and joy.
And at the center, there will be only what is left when all else falls away
the raw emotion,
sprinkled with the pollen of judgement
and opinion.
Judgement spreads
emotion lingers,
but the stem of it all is my mind.
Small leaves of thought, knowledge, and instinct sprouted from the mind seeking light and learning.
But what they found was growth.

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