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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1456980
It was Thanksgiving Day 2003, I was feeling alittle lonely. So I wrote this.
The gift of human life.
A beautiful pearl one views,
But does not disturb.
A simple spot of pollen on a bee’s behind.
That spot must be spent for a flower to grow.
This Pattern must continue for all
living things to continue,
without concern for any thing
that may step into its path.
Such a delicate gift,
this thing called
“Life”
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1456980-Life