Poppy’s Silent Tear

In a garden where no one dares to sleep,

A crimson poppy begins to weep.

Her petals fall in a fragile heap,

Guarding secrets she vowed to keep.

She blooms in silence, a tender flame,

Yet no one remembers to call her name.

Through endless seasons she stays the same,

A fleeting beauty the world won’t claim.

The wind caresses her with a sigh,

Whispering stories as it passes by.

But no one listens, they just walk dry,

Unaware of the tears she longs to cry.

Her roots are deep in forgotten ground,

Where echoes of lost love still sound.

She waits for footsteps that won’t be found,

For a heart that’s no longer bound.

Oh, poppy red, with sorrow so true,

I see the pain you silently knew.

Though time will fade your scarlet hue,

Your grief still lingers like morning dew.

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