Angry FlowerA Poem by BethIt sat and bloomed year after year, delicate windblown flower. All who passed by upon the road saw and stopped to admire fragrant petals, translucent leaves, a token of Life's Innocence. But deep, down deep, the flower was ANGRY. Every year with the rising of the summer sun, she had to sit Alone. Endure gawking fat noses and pudgy inquiring fingers. With every touch or admiring eyes, the anger boiled faster, deeper. No outward way to express itself, the pressure built inside. One night, the summer moon arose and the anger fell to Despair. The next morning, the passerby looked and saw the shriveled stalk the petals blackened from the fumes transparent leaves fallen to the ground. He plucked the stalk from its dead roots and crushed it down into the dirt. © 2008 BethAuthor's Note
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Added on August 10, 2008AuthorBethPhoenix, AZAboutPeople are in my head, scrambling around in quiet desperation to escape this prison and live their stories out on paper. more..Writing
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