Wilted

i am a flower. 

one within another field of flowers, 

but i am withered and wilted.

i am this way because of the wind

it howls at me, for i am vulnerable in the night.

it pulls on my leafs and petals,

tugging on my very soul. 

pulling the security from my stems with ease.

i am a flower,

i may be withered and wilted but i am here among the other flowers.

and they support me,

for it is the only way to grow.

we grow because of the storms

we create ourselves with tears the wind causes. 

photosynthesis only occurs when all the flowers 

have gotten their share of sunlight filled with sacrifice;

in which case may flatter this very field of flowers.