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Poem 3

The Transplant


Delicate, worthless,

Transported to a new home,

Blooming beauties grow.


New plants being pricked,

Clean, fresh soil feeding the roots,

Colour fills your eyes.


Seeds restricted, trapped,

Pricked from home, to support free,

Watch it pile up high.


Fresh damp and chilly,

Makes me feel overjoyed,

Happy. Captivity? NO!