Floral Birth '98

You plant me as a seed.

Forget to water my roots
or care for me as I begin to sprout.

Forget where you have planted me and begin
to walk all over the soil that I am to feed on.

Allowing the weeds to tangle and wrap
around me, until I can barely breathe.

Mowing me down when I am standing
a little too tall, a little too proud.

Keeping me far from the sun
and never shielding me from the rain.

Waiting to see if I will still miraculously manage
to blossom and rise from the dirt.

If my petals will grow bright-colored and delicate
so that you may pluck them one by one.

Hoping to still wrap me up ‘nice and pretty’
in a pink bow and fancy string.

So proud of all my hard work
which you have now claimed as your own.

Feeling it only just, to now reap what you sowed.