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Wildflower


Rain was my favorite and not a drizzle of heartache.

And as I looked through the pelting sheets, I met your gaze.

I will never forget the look on your face.

The boy I thought I knew so well had transformed beneath the clouds.

The scowl that usually held you back was replaced.

You were smiling the most gorgeous smile.

You were laughing and dancing in the rain.

You were thought to be a person that was abnormal.

You were compared to the weeds by a gravestone.

Only they were wrong about you and I was wrong about this emotion for you.

I felt no fear or remorse for being so close.

I could see your transformation, more beautiful than most.

You were not a weed, but a wildflower.


Thank you for reading this writing by J. M. Lilin on, The Unsigned Writer. If you’re enjoying this site, leave a like, and subscribe for more!

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