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Purple buds scattered within the vines,
A delicate white flower awaits their tomorrow,
Yet somewhere in the lavender bud you see sorrow,
For the other flowers that do not intertwine.
Their once angelic blossoms lay torn,
In a shunned and lonely pile,
They lived a life of bitterness and bile,
Themselves are the only feature they adorn.
They led a life of egoism and fret,
For as they sulked in the boisterous sun,
Their self-indulgent lives had begun,
An action they later regret.
A purple bud observes and grieves,
As the wilted pathetically stretches forth a burnt stem
For their selfishness, they art condemned,
Into a piteous grave of scorched leaves.
And as the innocent bud turns its head,
It rejoices in its blessings, instead,
Of wishing for additions to its stead,
Joy and inspiration it hopes to spread.
**moral= think of others more then yourself!^-^**
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