Your leaves are fragile
and your petals are soft too.
Standing out in grass.
Your kind is rare,
for it's full of love and care.
Your love is precious.
Sometimes, Winter comes
and you become frost and ice.
Yet you grow again.
Although you get cold,
you don't freeze entirely.
There is always Spring.
YOU ARE READING
𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙰 𝙶𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍
PoetryMini book on random things. I wrote most of these when I was 14.
