Flowers and Age

‘I’m okay, you’re okay’ is a mask in the land of pretend. Hide your face and how it twists into such an ugly thing, How it wrinkles and fades into what none could call beauty. Hide your skin and the odd colours that bloom beneath it Like flowers. You age like flowers do – beauty ebbing away as they crumple, Ready to become dust again. ‘I’m okay, you’re okay’, you claim. Okay, but nothing better. You have the odd ailment everyone suffers from, but you never see it portrayed, It hurts until you realise that the most beautiful thing in life Is finding beauty in places society cannot, or will not, or shall not. Remove your mask, and be the first in this glossy magazine world, In this world of models and secrets and plastic flowers To cease pretending that you are not beautiful When you have been all along.