Rosebuds not yet blooming,
Hurry not for a journey so wild;
Love not the rain falling,
Wish not thorns my child.
Rosebuds not yet grown,
Thou shall not steal the shine,
Let not your roots be thrown
Wait ye for the perfect sun, so fine.
Let petals for a while hide,
But divorce them on right whenever
Walk unto the corridor's side,
Be not a Hawker now or ever.
Flog not your love rosebuds,
Let not your heads be muds.
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A/N: To my fellow youths, BLOOM!