Emily Midea Poet Ballade

Beneath the Streetlight

Beneath a single streetlight,
where no one ever stayed,
a little flower broke the earth
and grew through nights of rain.

No hands reached down to hold it,
no voice called out its name.
It learned to face the empty dark
and bloom despite the pain.

Each petal held a story
of every night alone,
yet somehow from the loneliness,
something beautiful had grown.

And when the morning found it,
it stood there, soft and bright—
a little proof that broken things
can still become the light.

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