The flowers they took

I had a garden full of flowers,

Gave them water, cared for hours.

They came and plucked them one by one,

So merciless—I was left with none.

Now I hate those flowers they give me,

I’ll grow my own to set me free.

And when they bloom, world will see,

The roots of strength that grew in me.

Published by zehrimarwa

Everyone is a poet

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