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  • Writer's pictureHana Mahmood

Rose garden

I claim I want blooms, vibrant

and bright,

But thorny vines always put

up a fight.

What if petals droop, dreams

fall apart?

What if joy's scent is just a

false start?


Why can't I sway in the sun's

warm light,

Instead of stuck in shadows,

fearing the height?

Maybe fear's the gardener in

me,

Snipping joy's buds before

they're set free.


Yet amidst the thorns, a bud

unfolds,

Craving sunlight, breaking

from holds.

Letting go of fear, embracing

the bloom,

For happiness awaits beyond

the gloom.


So, I'll trim the thorns,

nurture the rose,

In life's garden, where

happiness grows.

For amidst the thorns and

beauty's play,

I'll gather courage to seize

the day.

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