Hold On
Your color is gone.
Faded by the sun.
Unable to endure the heat.
Still, you hold on.
Dirt clings to you.
Picked up by the wind.
Turned to mud by the rain.
Still, you hold on.
Petal tips are
tucked or torn,
tattered and worn
day-by-day.
Still, you hold on.
You catch the eye
of the passerby
because you are
different from the rest.
So, you hold on
with all you have left.
Do you notice how flowers change during the time they are open?
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