Photo by MARCO DIAZ on Unsplash
Aloe stands with thorns so sharp,
A quiet guard around its heart.
Through heat and storm, it bends, not breaks,
And from its pain, a blossom wakes.
So too the soul that walks through strife,
Bruised by thorns along the life.
Hold on, endure, let hope take flight—
From every wound, blooms reach the light.
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