Little Flower
Little flower, little flower, growing like a weed,
I want to pick you, but then I don't I think I'll just let you be.
Your colors so pretty starling at me, a yellow orange is what I see.
If I were you and you were me, I know you would just let me be.
So, little flower grow like a weed, for I won't pick you I'll just let you be.
poem by Joanne Walker
Added by Poetry Lover
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