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Sunflowers
We sit and watch like sunflowers,
following and praising one person’s move.
Smiling at high noon,
we reach perfection.
Sunlit eyes blurs our vision,
of what is truly right.
The end of the day, the person strays,
leaving a wilting flower,
left alone with no path or plan.
Apollo rides, drowsy dawn follows,
a sunflower has found it’s life.
Praising the sun, its only life-giver,
only to be left again.
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