Fulcrum of a Rose

Underneath the earth, she starts A budding, not yet known A seed planted, unfinished, unloved Roses grow best with bright sun and regular water All of which she’s been denied The fulcrum of a rose indeed passed her by And headed towards the unhidden, the undamaged Her companions illuminated Their blooms mere reminders of her shriveled form Until one day One rare, unlikely day The sun rose and landed on her The rain fell just right So she could finally taste it too Her petals came alive, her thorns as well She finally flourished Her blooms came late But her blossoms were just as sweet Her companions began to wither Their life cycle was complete But still, she stood Tall and bright in a sea of death Flourishing amongst those she once envied Her delay had made her strong And every hardship, struggle, and stunt Now culminated in creating her entire being Indeed, the fulcrum of a rose did not pass her by It came right on time