Filling Up My Bath Again: sounds Of One Flower Poem by Adrian Jascha Tetzlaff

A soulless meadow, the grass almost completely dried,
No trace of life if it were not for a flower.

A crippled flower, disfigured by its past and environment,
Helpless and sadly alone, around it, other flowers have dried up.

No one wants her, everyone keeps themselve away,
She slowly accepts the rejection despite the great pain.

Immediately with a broken heart, she sprays out her pollen,
She does not care about her surroundings, she accepts the end, fallen.

The pollen finds another lonely flower with other pains,
This one thinks that the contact fills her, whose heart again.

Blind with joy, she accepts the pollen and has not recognized its incompatibility,
Hours later, another desiccated flower lies next to the lonely flower.
The curse again got pleased.

Loneliness blinds us and makes us act out of inferiority complexes; we only recognize our actual needs after the mistakes have been made.