The others were tall and elegant, with bodies well-formed and gowns structured and firm.
She was short, her body weak and weedy, her gown flimsy, easily torn.
They had a sameness, she was different; when together, she stood out, alone yet not forlorn.
Poppy her name, chosen always to be remembered.
Wonderful sad story, like the ugly duckling
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I was thinking something similar. And certainly, looking at those flowers in my garden, I could see it so clearly
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That worked so well π
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Thank you πβπβπβ
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Sometimes being an individual can make us feel all alone.
There is a melacholy feel to this, Crispina. Lovely …
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Thank you β€οΈβ
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