Every day they bloom, when the sun rises,
Every day they wither, when the sun sets,
Their families, colors, smells, shapes
All are different;
They will beam, when with their family
They will frown, when segregated,
Some will be bright, some will be dull
Some with rich aroma, spread fragrances
Some with odorless, but looks beautiful;
When one is born, it will be in the form of a bouquet
When one dies, it will be in the form of a wreath
They spread happiness when one looks at them
But all these ends within,
ONE DAY
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Thank you, my beloved readers, for the time you spent to read this,
-AGALYA (Agal)