Flower as peoples power in the meek
is from the stigma of ages of relief we seek.
Style remains popular as stamina appears unbound.
We continue to bloom from strategic ideas found.
In the humble of patience strengthening our base,
we cultivate a newness away from so many mistakes.
Now then as the meek a flower we grow.
Foretold, it has been in this direction will we go.
Methodologies are new petals from roots grown to know.
It’s a nationwide necessity to survive as we grow.
Roots have circulated around repeatedly with no end.
It’s now no surprise how our wise can captivate its begin.
Our love for life endures us, while In God We Trust,
feeding on compelling determination to do what we must.
While it is the light that draws the flower to its blossom,
the same lights up our hearts and the minds now often.
Time can only tell about the many who are being chosen,
their spirits, a concerning energy also felt by the frozen.
Strange in the rough of many places that flowers grow.
Many minds have surely opened seeing deeper than eyes go.
Truth hides from no one, they who’ve searched have found.
Conceptions of inheritance has some psychologically bound.
Bound, of wondering expectancies about their place among many,
fooled by the careless minute few sharing little, having plenty.
While all the cries from hurt and delusions continue to unfold,
still by prophesy among the meek a flower we grow.