Wheat stem
Windswept, Hammered by rain, Crushed by hail, I am frail, facing all these dangers, all this darkness Yet I'm still there; waiting here and there, me the wheat stem, which survives to wait to be harvested. A faithful friend Pastel colored For Moods but always sweet is pleasant Every morning I Like a hand caressing My friend the sun Who as a bottle pouring its light Warm and clear. Me his friend wheat stem Waiting to be cut…
Wheat stem
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