what do i want to be?
more than anything,
a flower.
so soft and tender,
you must touch me
delicately,
a fragile thing i’d be.
i’d have it easy.
to be beautiful
without ever trying.
maybe we are all flowers
lovely little things
something to admire
in each of us
with intricate details
of our own
that others discover.
but only those who are
patient
those who stick around
until we bloom,
once every petal is
exposed,
one by one,
opened up
when we decide it’s safe.
i think i am a flower
that hasn’t seen the sun,
and has yet to be watered.
well i’m starting to think so
but i haven’t got a clue.
maybe i am one that is
dried up,
whose petals are dying
loosing its color
and everything there is
to desire
until there’s not a point in trying
and there’s nothing
to admire,
and i’ll give up,
no other choice but
to retire.
no way of knowing
if i am right or wrong.
if i am closer to the end
or the beginning.
i want to believe
i am a flower
only unnoticed because
i have yet to blossom.
that my efforts now
remain unimportant
entirely because
i am still young,
and not because
i am withered and worthless.
either way,
we all end up in the dirt somehow.
wow
amazing poem, i can totally relate