I stand here. Not there.
I am meant to be here.
Sometimes the wind is so strong.
Nevertheless, it taught me how to be firm.
And I also learned to dance.
Sometimes it’s too cold.
But I learned to endure.
Sometimes it rains so hard.
It refreshed me though.
And then I grew.
Sometimes the sun is too hot.
Yet I became mature.
And I also learned to appreciate warmth.
I am a plant.
I don’t have a voice but I can speak.
I cannot walk but I do not have to be there.
Because I am supposed to be here.
I know my purpose.
This is my destiny.
Not because that’s how I look.
But because that’s how I was made.
And I bloom.
– The Terrible Artist
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