Born to Bloom

1 hour ago

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how it felt 5 years ago

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From the same earth, the same gentle hands, a rose blooms, yet stands apart. Eyes may question, lips may doubt, but the rose never chose its path.

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There’s no fault to mourn, it’s bloom porclaims a brighter dawn. Hands of kindness shaped it’s way, love was given, care was known. Now it rises, tall with pride blossoming among the rest.

To be different is not to fail, It is not to fall short of society standards. It is not a reason to be opreassed. No more question need be asked

— A different color doesn’t make it another flower, it is and will always be, a rose .