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<h3>Poem by <span class="has-inline-color has-luminous-vivid-orange-color">Refilwe J Mokgatlenyane</span></h3>
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<p class="has-text-align-center"><a href="https://www.pexels.com/@teona-swift?utm_content=attributionCopyText&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_source=pexels" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Photo by Teona Swift from Pexels</a></p>
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<p>She said, “Give me a flower,<br>And I’ll show you how to take care of it, so it doesn’t lose its color</p>
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<p>Give me a rose<br>And I’ll show you how to avoid its thorns from pricking you even if you hold it close</p>
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<p>Give me a pad<br>And I’ll write you the story of how I grew up with everyone thinking am mad</p>
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<p>Give me the world<br>And I’ll show you how to make it a better place<br>I’ll show you how a boy and girl should be raised to be brother and sister and not selfish competitors in a race</p>
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<p>But you gave me a pen<br>And I wrote you this poem, with the hope that from it there’s a lesson you’ll learn</p>
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