The seeds have been sown,
In the pit of my heart.
The succulent droplets fall down,
Encouraging life to emerge.
Fresh little shoots rise up.
Petals opening as if to welcome.
The flowers in my heart.
But there is always that one person,
Someone, who without thinking,
Plucks the fresh growth from it's base.
Tearing each petal from it's soul.
Watching it die right in front of them,
And yet they feel no remorse,
After leaving one less flower in my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem