The flower blooms
Her pedals torn and ripped
The water she consumed
Drained her fragile body
The light
She doesn’t want
It tampers with her soil
Black and dripping with cold
So dark, not bandaged
Collaboration with mold
Now you would think
The flower is old
Once upon her past
Her soil was gold
The leaves
Like anchors
holding her down
Her voice was not heard
Created with no sound
Tortured by parasites
She was picked to the stem
The water drowned her
The storm she let in
Her cell wall
Couldn’t keep them all out
Her beautiful tulip smell
Couldn’t help
With how she felt
The wind blew too hard
And made it hard to breath
She tried to disappear
But to everyone
She would “leave”
She would leave
The flower has been
Scarred, hurt, and abused
She was told to give up
But then she would lose
The flowers stem is straight
Her pedals
As beautiful as ever
That's what you see
Determined by her weather
The flower blooms
About the Creator
Diamond Smith
Haii, I’m a Artist with multiple talents. I hope you like my poems on here!
Links page- beacons.page/sylnx &
Keep reading
More stories from Diamond Smith and writers in Poets and other communities.
🅼🅸🅳🅽🅸🅶🅷🆃 🆂🅽🅰🅲🅺🆂
"It's 10 in Tuscon! We all know what that means... It's Time for Midnight Snacks with your man, Gerald Gee! Ready to spend the night together? Me too! I'm full of snacks and can't wait to regurgitate them all back into your hungry ears. Crack a brew! Pop some corn! Anything to get ready for one hell of a show where the talk maybe cheap but the words cut deep...
By Lamar Wigginsabout 17 hours ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.