Flowers

Sitting there she sees a flower. It’s yellow and wilted. Alone and discolored; overlooked; She looks around and she’s no one else. Like the flower, there’s still time to change. Alone and discolored; not going to be her. She’s still young and pretty. Afraid of being a dying flower. She stands up leaves, Calls everyone she knows. Apologizes for the way she’s been. Love and friendship surrounds her. Sitting there she sees a flower. Among the other it stands out. It’s red and full bloom Surrounded by a garden, It grows strong and interlaced. She picks it and puts it in her hair. One flower is pretty. A garden holds more beauty… Than one wilted flower. She turns and goes home. She is happy and loved, And always feels at home in a garden.