A daisy in the dirt

An absent minded child looking off into the sky 

She looked at her dreams that were growing so high

She thought maybe she was born with a different type of eyes

Because she had a talent for spotting where the beauty lies

When everyone around her saw only deep, dark smoke

She created patterns of beauty with every word she spoke

For when her generations gone, og the rest there will be no trace

But the new generation will be running at her pace


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