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colors.

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The sound was red,
Blue,
Viridescent, too.

It was in the air.
And only a few people seemed to care.

But a flower that had just recently bloomed
Walked over and revealed her wound.

Staring up, the boy fine-tuned.
They play their song for the world to hear.

Only a few seemed to care,
For it wasn't their rhythm.
They wanted to stay part of the system.