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Flowers
Women are like flowers. Praised for having the prettiest petals. Grown big and bright. Put in beautiful vases, placed on high shelves. Worshipped until those pretty petals start to wither and wilt. Dying flowers get thrown out like garbage and replaced with younger, brighter ones. Those new flowers get put back on the same high shelves in those same beautiful vases.
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This poem expresses how women are viewed in society and compares that view to flowers.