Even the smallest and humblest grows.
🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨
Upon a stone where rain did soak,
Ezra clung—-his creed silent
No bloom, no praise, no boast—-
Just a stone and grit, compliant.
🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨
She watched crowned flowers get picked first
Their petals bright, their moments fine
They laughed at moss, its lime-green quirks
But their colours faded, over time.
🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨
Now children climb on weathered stone
One leans close to lime green moss
Ezra speaks, a truth grown old,
“Grow slow, my child, no loss.”
🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨🪨
If you like what you read, please visit me on Patreon!
Here is a set of Horror Short Stories, Echoes in the Dark, which you can download here.
Please check out books by other great authors as well. Today’s book is The Teenage Defender by Emma Jayne Taylor
The Getting Literal Writing Alcove 