The Flower
I saw a flower standing in a ray of weeds,
Beautiful, from afar, it seemed.
I stepped closer, heart filled with greed,
For I wanted that growing seed.
I tried picking it up, thorns poking my thin skin,
It pricked me, it hurt me, yet I still wanted to hold it,
Because it's beauty pulled me in.
I saw a girl, standing in a crowded room,
Her eyes gleamed, beautiful, she seemed.
I stepped closer, heart filled with love,
Yet my mind wanted me to go above.
And now I realise, I am that flower,
And she is the person holding it,
I hurt her, through my words, through my actions,
Yet she still holds me close.
But to her, the beauty of the flower is beyond compare,
Even if the flower can't see the same reflection anywhere,
It blooms, it gives light,
But inside, the flower isn't alright.
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