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Alone in a vast field, forgotten by the forest,
Inhibited by the bursts of a violent wind,
Stands a weather beaten and scarcely foilaged tree.
Lacking grandeur befitting the majestic woods,
Banished to wither in this forlorn field alone.
Torrential rains did come and attempt to wash the tender sapling away.
Fiercest winds sought to strip it of its delicate adornments.
Tender and vulnerable a young sapling was adrift in the floods,
Roots sprang forth, tendrils seeking depth in the loose soil carrying it away.
What seemed only a field of weeds,
Offered an embrace in their tangled existence.
That young sapling accepted what was offered in grace,
Caught it became in a field to remain lost and forgotten but growing beneath the surface
Hidden away in the shadows of the swaying wild growth that knew no defeat.
A lone tree sought out light through the untamed hazy cover.
Defying the odds, though misshapen by vicious elements,
It grew and though small and lacking vibrance, it stands alone.
Its roots though hidden beneath the tangled web of unsightly weeds,
Grow deep, holding on tightly to what little it was given,
Accepting grace though found in the dark,
Though not found majestic and stately of beauty,
Testament it gives to more valorous plight,
It is not lost among a luscious forest,
Its beauty is that noticed it has become because it stands alone.