The flower stands in total darkness,
Her petals stretched open desperately,
Imploringly,
Begging for light,
Wanting to grow,
Needing to glow in the eyes of the beholder,
A simple sadness passes through her delecate stem,
A silent whimper of defeat,
Heard only as a rustle of leaves,
Or the soft brushing of dying petals meeting the ground,
She shudders in her cold holding room,
Pining for the sun,
Screaming for him to come back to her,
Like an abandoned lover,
She needs his embrace, his warmth,
If only for a moment.
She wilts, for to bloom would mean the impossible.
~Erin
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