In a field of green, stands a sunflower tall,
Its secrets hidden, behind a yellow wall,
A solitary figure, standing all alone,
Its mysteries kept, until they are known.
The bees buzz by, but the flower stays still,
Its secrets guarded, with an iron will,
What lies beneath, the surface so bright,
Is it darkness or light?
The sunflower sways, in the gentle breeze,
Its secrets safe, from prying eyes and bees,
But if you listen close, you might just hear,
The whispers of secrets, that it holds dear.
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