Green buds like flawless pearls, they bask in the warmth of the sun and bathe in the glow of the moon.
Knowing no hardship, they are watered by the rains and fed through their roots.
Innocence blooms now, soft and delicate with sweet fragrance filling the air.
The scent attracts greedy, impatient hands.
Searching and tugging for fruit where none is to be found.
Dirty hands with long jagged nails that caress and pierce and bruise.
Leaving behind a barren tree with broken branches and falling blossoms.
Their petals tumble through the air and land on trampled soils, never to know what it was like to grow whole.
How does such a light thing make such a heavy sound?
About the Creator
I like to put pieces of myself into my writing. Sometimes it's a finger, sometimes a toe, but it's always something that gets stuck to the roof of your mouth and leaves a lingering feel in your gut.