Ironic Recognition

She watched the morning sun rise And drift above the set Watched the auburn rays Cut through her woven net. Felt her limbs fall loose As she fell ashen to the ground Her puppet-strings lay broken A caustic, empty sound. And although she had her freedom She had not the will For that had long been broken As she’d watched her time stand still. Those that passed her could have stopped To help her stand, or lean But no-one saw priority In breaking worn routine. She was just a flower One plastered to the wall The kind you take for granted Never standing tall. It was not until the moment On the ‘morrows fateful dawn That she was finally noticed In the irony she was gone.