Window Box Flower Poem by Mark Heathcote

You're like a window box flower
Blue in shadowed shades
On the inside dead dried up
Looking at an interior floral wall
Listening to the rain, the rainfall

Heavy choirs a rain-like stardust
Running down her cheeks
Lipstick bleeding on her teeth,
Lung-pressure filled to bursting
But outwardly sitting on that windowsill
She isn't moving, she isn't revealing, anything.

Like-dead-coral motionless
She looks to be waiting with her eyes fixed
Legs parted in a knee-high dress
Arms folded rest between, beneath her breast
I guess she's strong enough not to crumble
But yet she looks like a rose about to be deposed.

You're like a window box flower
Blue in shadowed shades
On the inside dead dried up
Looking at an inferior, interior floral wall
Listening to the rain, the rainfall

But I know that's not you at all
Cause even when you're feeling small
It's like a warning call just before the storm
Just before the squall that turns back the tide
Just shortly, before everybody cries
Just shortly, before everyone drowns
Just shortly, before everybody dies
That's when you stop, get up and dry your eyes.
Cause your soul, your heart is a flower, which never dies.