Blooming season

Bloom and wither, the seasons of life grow and wilt,

Frames of our lives are broken and rebuilt.

The loving mother lost amongst her agony and pain

The daughter who pleads, begs, and cries in vain.
The father who speaks love but acts betrayal,

The grandfather who once spoke brightly turned pale.

Taught to be exceptional and grand,

I cannot help but scream for help underneath the sand.

Yet a flower bloomed in a life of pain, to learn and grow,

Watering the soil and receiving light to give me my glow.

Teaching me to bury resent in the sand that drowned me,

Claiming my life as my final decree.

Soon enough the simple flower grew to a meadow spilling love,

Finally the life I yearned for fit like a glove.