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Garden of man
For those of us born daisies; I think its best to know;
Well see and do and be much more than any rose that grows!
Were like the sketch the artist makes to start the perfect oil.
The silverplate that imitates a pedigree in foil.
A rhinestone among diamonds, that lets a poor man bluff.
A cotton dress, not silk and yet, for many good enough.
A song sung in the shower, by a one man symphony.
The rose thats not a rose, and yet a lovely sight to see.
The soldier who will march to war against their fellow man;
While roses shed no petals, preferring to command.
Without us who would leaders lead? In wars who would be sent?
How long before world peace broke out, if only leaders went?
It seems to me that roses would soon crumble to defeat;
Were it not for little daisies holding hands beneath their feet!
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