Angry Flower

It sat and bloomed year after year,

delicate windblown flower.

All who passed by upon the road

saw and stopped to admire

fragrant petals, translucent leaves,

a token of Life's Innocence.

But deep, down deep, the flower was ANGRY.

Every year with the rising of the summer sun,

she had to sit Alone.

Endure gawking fat noses

and pudgy inquiring fingers.

With every touch or admiring eyes,

the anger boiled faster, deeper.

No outward way to express itself,

the pressure built inside.

One night, the summer moon arose

and the anger fell to Despair.

The next morning, the passerby looked

and saw the shriveled stalk

the petals blackened from the fumes

transparent leaves fallen to the ground.

He plucked the stalk from its dead roots

and crushed it down into the dirt.

Author's Note

Again - a Very Old Piece from when I did not know better :)

Reviews

[bluessadmood]

i just love the way you talk to and consider tiny things whether material ,plant or animals ,you make them behave like mature humans ,this calls for lots of imagination and lovely drawing of a beautiful scenes,i just loved this,real talk of a dreamer ,just wonderful really,moayad

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i really enjoyed this one...i think you left a lot open and yet gave good details...nice balance there

[ShadowWolf]

A very interesting piece because it is so open to interpretation.

[Jessica Fox]

I liked it, there are so many ways the reader can take the words into context. Great piece!