I might be thorny,
I might be ugly,
And worthless to ye;
But once I prosper,
You all will wonder,
That I am full of splendor;
For I ain't barren,
I may bear spine,
And appear gross and saturnine;
But I store myself water,
Which no plant can minister,
Other than me, ever;
I bear beautiful blossoms,
Which are enticingly full of charm,
A beauty over the ugly stem;
And I bear fruits,
That are delicious and sweet,
And are healthy to the heart;
Do not underestimate others,
For they are weird and queer,
Never judge a book by its cover.
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