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They don’t stay in tidy rows

They are difficult to contain

They grow through cracks in the sidewalk

Along dusty roads

Some confuse them for weeds.


Wildflowers grow because

That is who they are

Adversity doesn’t deter them.


They continue to reach for the sun

They bloom and flourish in every color

Blue, purple, gold and crimson.


We don’t put them in a vase

We don’t clip their wings

We love them and admire them for who they are.


Just as they are

Right where they are

Until the bloom fades

And the cycle begins anew


Forever free.

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