Growing Pains
Woman plucked from her golden roots
Blown to the wind,
limbs carried like petals
Delicately, she flutters through
Admired by each who tries to catch her
with covetous hands
The tempest gust rips through her veins, spitting her out to treacherous terrain
She waits for the sun,
giving out to the storm
Nigh to final form,
She watches the rain
water where she once stood tall
Now withered and bruised,
Woman weeps
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