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Flowers | ||
| Flowers are a gift from God, Springing from the dormant sod, Cheering all who look their way, Brightening the darkest day. Petals pink, or white, or blue Wave until the summer's through. Then when chill winds sweep the sky Flowers wither up and die. We should all like flowers be, Bringing cheer to all we see. May our radiance glow and last Even when our lives are past. | ||
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