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Flower (a poem)

She’s a delicate flower

not yet ready to bloom.

She’s afraid once people see her petals

they won’t like all of the colors.

So, she stays rooted in the ground

never to be part of someone’s bouquet.


Her petals begin to wilt

with promises never fulfilled.

She’s a beautiful flower

and they plucked her petals one by one.

She loves me, she loves me not.

They tied her stem into a terrible knot.


Weeds grow up around her. They’re slowly suffocating her

with all of their unspoken opinions.

The dandelions choke the ground all around her.

And people blow their wishes on them

and stomp their feet on her.


Because she’s a delicate flower

but one day she will bloom.

Her petals will raise their faces to the sun.

All of her colors will be on display

and she will be magnificent.

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