The Field

Floating through the air in a field I am being pulled into the ground I am a seed becoming a flower I am supposed to sprout, to look like all the other flowers in my field But I don't look like the other flowers My pedals are different My color is different My height is different I’m not the same type flower I rip my pedals off one by one they fall to the ground until my leaves follow suit now my roots detach from the soil the wind blows me to the ground I’m a flower becoming irrelevant Floating above the field, not even in the ground