The flower that blooms in adversity,
Rare and beautiful indeed.
She has been pummeled,
Her roots have been shaken.
Despite her sisters falling,
Despite the fires burning all around her,
Despite the universe's best efforts,
Her petals are soft but resilient,
They have battered a thousand storms,
But she does not grow thorns.
People cover their noses to avoid inhaling her scent,
Being too sour for their taste,
Not knowing how hard she fought,
To be alive at the very least.
She is the rarest flower ever seen,
For though she's been at war with the world,
Fighting just to stay alive and perhaps find some peace,
She is still soft and gentle.
That is her beauty.