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
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