I am a poppy,
those who I have lost live on in me.
they are not forgotten.
...
I have something for you to hear, so listen up my darling, my dear.
We have been through a lot this past year.
You hurt deeply when you left,
Now I've turned to knives, lies, and theft.
...
A Flower Among Thistles
I am a poppy,
those who I have lost live on in me.
they are not forgotten.
I am a rose,
sheilded and protected so no one can hurt me.
so no one can come close.
I am a dandelion,
parts of me fleeting and leaving with anyone who stops for a closer look.
I am an apple blossom,
growing towards the sky with the help of the branches,
reaching to touch the sun.
I am a wildflower,
untamed and independent.
I am a moonflower,
I open up in the dark, but never completely,
only daring to feel the moon's brilliant light.
They are the thistles.
all alike and too many of them,
unwanted and destructive.
In the middle of the thistle patch,
I am a sunflower,
ugly, plain, deformed.
I am an orchid,
perched on the rocks of a waterfall,
daring to grasp the needed drink, but taking too much so I can forget
that I am a sunflower.