My Special Flower

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Little flower grows
by my house; I visit
her every day, give
her sips of water, sing
of her beauty, tell her
she is so special.

One day a man comes
to cut the grass and
cuts her, too. Crying,
I told him what he’d
done. He laughed and
said, “It was only a
weed!”

Not a weed, I thought,
my friend, a rare beauty.

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4 Responses to My Special Flower

  1. In reading this poem, my first thought went to what it takes raising a daughter you love very dearly. She may be wild and rebellious, but you still love and cherish her. Then comes a suitor, not necessarily the kind of man you always wanted for the daughter you love. But she loves him and one day, that flower in your garden is cut away.

    Like

  2. The essence of beauty and the rich color is dazzling.

    Like

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