I am wilting every day
my color is fading
My scent is no longer of life and joy
but of pain and death
All I want is to be watered
to be loved, smiled at, embraced
a thing of happiness and beauty
to feel the warmth of the sun on my face
instead of the lonely damp darkness of the soil.
My will to bloom is dying.
because every time I rise, I get stomped back into the ground by some uncaring cleated foot.
My petals are no longer soft and vibrant
but rough and broken
Falling apart
Wilting away and slowly fading every day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem