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 




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