Wish You Could Bloom

His reflection on a flower.

Can we talk about the daisies that lie in wait 

as the little sister shouts

                 to her brother not too far, 

that flowers aren’t only for girls 

because one day he will have to bring them to the                            humped shape in the green grass

where she rests and the daisies have finally wilted, 

store-bought ones;

                 don’t have the same charm it enraptured his sister with 

and didn’t create the same smile on his drying lips,                         the watercolor red stains his eyes 

                                 and the veins become the stems of a regret-filled life.  

Author's Note

I'm new, not a pro, but I want to grow and will hope for some feedback on my poetry. Thank you. :)