This wildflower is blooming
Opening up to the sun
But she fears she’s not beautiful
Because she is not the one
That you picked
She forgets that when she sits
In a vase so delicate
This is when she no longer lives
About the Creator
Lucia B.
Poet
Novelist
Linguist & Aspiring Polyglot
Bibliophile
A Failed Artist, A Disillusioned Poet, An Underpaid Game Show Host
I took my son and niece to Gori, a small town in Georgia where Joseph Stalin was born. They talked me into visiting the Stalin's Museum, the largest in the post-Soviet space. I had resisted going there because I just can't stand the monster and know enough about him, or so I thought.
By Lana V Lynx6 days ago in FYI
Comments (1)
What a beautiful ending, not where I expected the poem to go at all… a much needed reminder ❤️✨