Blade of Grass
Pick me not a flower
As though that were all I am
A quickly fading pretty thing
Just a trinket in your hand
But take me as a weapon
A blade so sharp and true
So that if kept and tempered kind
I will never fail you.
Poetry Slam:
Pick me not a flower
As though that were all I am
A quickly fading pretty thing
Just a trinket in your hand
But take me as a weapon
A blade so sharp and true
So that if kept and tempered kind
I will never fail you.
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