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Just a Flower
Aren’t i just a flower.
 A sweet and gentle soul.
 With pink
 Or red,
 Or yellow
 petals.
 Growing from this black dirt.
 Growing with these stems.
 Just growing.
 Yet one day, i know.
 That my growing will cease.
 My petals will die.
 The stems will break.
 And what is left of me will be gone.
 I will be known
 As once before a flower,
 Of scent and beauty.
 While you watch
 My petals slowly drifting in the wind.

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