Little Rose

Wed, 04/03/2019 - 20:30 -- daisys

Oh, little flower you’re so pretty.

I thought you stopped growing in the winter.

But then, how come your green stem pokes its head through the fresh, brown soil?

Your small round leaves shape themselves so beautifully.

Are you a daisy or a petunia?

Suddenly, I don’t care what you are.

All I care about is the fact that you’re not dead.

Does a flower ever die?

 

 

 

 

When the petals started falling off, I started plucking more of them off.

One day, I wanted it to grow taller, but it wouldn’t.

So, I stepped all over it

The crushed petals lay delicately on the soil, and soon enough the stem vanished from my eyes.

Despite of its size, its stem grew tall and even its thorn pricked hard and deep.

Little flower, I thought your cycle was finished.

I thought you were tired of my inconsistency.

Some days I would bring the water, but then I would forget your water and vitamins.

Well, I didn’t forget, I thought you were so healthy, you didn’t need any.

 

 

 

 

The truth is all flowers need water, even the smallest.

Little flower, you’re alive and that’s all I can think about.

But, will I remember your water this time?

 

 

 

Little Rose, it would be easier if you forgot about your food.

Then, you wouldn't be so dependent and I wouldn't be so careless.

It doesn't matter, the rain feeds you and despite of my efforts you grow.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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