The sky with its first hint of gray

Turns a bright shade of pink

As I walk in the brisk cold air

The pure white snow crunches under my feet

As I walk along that lonely street

Not a soul in sight

For I left them all far behind

In the road on Elm St.

A warm coat and gloves are all I have to wear

In this brisk cold air

I turn the corner on to a street

Finally for what, I must know

I look at the land all covered in white

Soon I find what I have come for

A lonely tulip one of many to grow

However, this one has survived the bitter cold snow

I pick it  up with cold blue hands

And walk the way I came

I soon appear back on that lonely street

It brings me hope

Life is what it provides

This tulip was strong yet weak

This tulip is me

Not long ago

I was left in this cold lonely street

Left to die all alone

But I came through

I was strong yet weak

Poor but rich

This tulip is me


Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 


Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression. Always let poetry fill your life. Keep expressing your heart.  

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