by Jessica Thyriar
A seed was planted, and it grew to bud
This flower in the making had all the hopes of being the best it could ever be
As the summer sun touched it ever so gently, it grew beautifully
So beautiful, that it was the highlight of the garden
But soon, things started to seem greener on the other side
The sun didn’t come around no more, and winter soon began to creep in
It was as if no one cared for the flower no more, it’s time to shine was done
Now all the sun did when it did come out, was focus on the tree’s
The flower tried all it could to remain on top,
But how could it when it was now second best to the sun
Where would this flower ever receive that tender love again..
The answer was never, the cold winds nearly pushed down the flower
There was no more energy in the flower to withstand the drive of the climate to which it was grown
The flower soon began to slip through the cracks of the ice, and slowly it deteriorated
It wasn’t long before the sun shone again, and the same flower came back to life,
But this time the flower was prepared, it knew that the winter winds would be the death of it
The flower expected no more, or no less
It grew to expect death, and with that its beauty withered away as each drop of sun touched its petals
The flower would no longer count on the sun, nor anything else to be what it was to be.
Tags: Poetry/Art
