It was nothing all along.
There was nothing.
I am nothing.
I am just another flower in the meadow.
Plainer, smaller, duller than all the other flowers.
But still a flower, nonetheless.
Swaying in the breeze like all the rest.
Waiting to be picked
Waiting to be wanted
Waiting to wait for the right one
Who can actually find me
Among all the other flowers
And call me
"Special".
****
Till then I shall remain here as "nothing".
Just another flower in the meadow.
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