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Bloom
March 27, 2021
I am young and fragile. They tell me one day that it would all amount to something. My limbs are growing weaker as they begin to hit the ground. My legs remain sturdy. To the ground, they are bound. I am wilting. The drowning of the ocean and burning rays of the sun has left scars and bruises. They say the world only favors the one he chooses. The trees echo of a day that I will be free. One day, the world will see the beauty that is me. Held by chains, I can only feel pain. So maybe tomorrow I can be beautiful again. Bloom.
© Madalyn W., Holliston, MA
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I think that it is very reminiscent of my youth and its fragility. I feel as though it is something many people relate to. I strive to make relatable writing so that it could be that much more powerful when people read it.