A flawed flower
That keeps flowing
In her flawsomness
Seeking to find righteousness
In a system that overlooks the depth of my brothers and sisters
I hereby take a stand looking over my fellow sisters crowns
To what looks like Queens in their crysalis
Flaws and all they flow
With grace they fully endure their space
Flawers that grow from concrete
Blooming with no explanation or reason
Seasons come and go
They grow and glow
Through high and lows
They keep it together
And carry their bunch of
FLAWERS
GRATO