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.