Formal Goodbye

A formal someone told me once: “When you’re sad, think of the sadder below you,” I sigh at this someone. How can this be? No longer am I a weeping flower, for the leaves below me fall like hail. And I'm swept away in the downpour. Ruined by those leaves, those poisonous, treacherous leaves. I sit and cry with my questions unanswered. Grapes on a vine like fates I haven’t suffered. Yet I don’t move anymore. I don’t dare anger my fate. For there’s a pit waiting for me. A pit with little leaves that stare back at me. They beg and plead. They talk with hushed whispers. “Let me out!” Out of where? Where are they being held? Where am I being held? Now I stare back at this formal someone. Did they put me here? Caged and trapped, a soggy rainbow looming overhead. I try so hard but it doesn’t budge. I am a straight road. I am a sharp piece of lead. I am the leaf below the flower.