Unfurl, the red awaits,
Like a rose,
Learning to bloom again
Yet so does the wisdom,
Patiently, it will come
After the rose has bloomed,
The flame is gone
Shattered,
The glass seems to break
The petals all fall of,
Yet this appearance.
No one seems to recognize
It is mesmerizing,
How often one sees,
That the sins of the senile
Were not sins but seeds
Seeds, for the future,
That would pave a path away
From the sorrowful hearts,
That ail our burdened home
Remember, the seeds are in you
Recognize you are naught but a seed
Naught but a sapling yet to grow
A Sapling that would do well,
To conform with a different tree
And a different seed
-Poem Fanatic
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