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Under the surface of a wall
Seeming to be or not to be
A happy wild flower is in bloom
Without either a butterfly that flaps gently with fragrance
Or a motion of the hand of cold wind
A happy wild flower just makes tears
The flower doesnt know
The sorrows of flowers whose heart stopped beating in a hothouse
That could not be loved by nature
Under the surface of a wall
Seeming to be or not to be
A happy wild flower is in bloom
That opens its eyes
With whispers of the warm sun
With the songs of dew that is holing the color of sky
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