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The lawn was once plain. Then you grew out of

nowhere, unworthy to be known. Even the
language of flowers spoke, but never of you. To
others, you were a pest; to some, a weed –
worthy to be plucked. Yet to the lawn, you were
a blessing; you were his sun – a kind of light that
rests but is always there.

The flower understood the loneliness of the

lawn, and she shares her joy, lifting it away.
While other greens despise the flower’s
existence, this lawn stood and made a promise
– that no matter how they are apart, even roses
grew on him, she will always be the lawn’s