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Click hereIt starts with sand,
a grain of imperfection
rubbing tender thoughts raw.
A seed of hurt,
a notion askew
in virginal terrain,
triggers ancient instincts.
And you wrap motherly
a gentler layer, then another.
Build riches around infection,
enclose, embed, protect.
Until all we see is beauty,
a jewel in your hand,
glowing for the world
to marvel.
But we all know
why it glitters
so pretty.
Don't we?
I don't think you took too long to build this up, and would keep stanzas one and two!
I think you take too long building the metaphor, but it is a good one. You probably don't need S1 AND S2.
Fly