Murphy was a rain cloud
And brightness pulling the lips' ends
Are always blocked from view
The moment his law pours down on you.
Though the rain encourages growth,
What happens when plants drown?
As buds, we are told we'll reach the stars.
But limbs wilt out of socket
The minute we reach too far.
We used to group in flower beds,
But gardeners can be impatient,
Or they'd snatch out unwanteds,
Or flowers would soak up abandonment
By relying on their own support.
Some flowers start as dandelions
But scatter from you as weeds
Until you're supporting yourself again.
As you turn to the closest roses,
They'll scrape you with the thorns
That they didn't think they needed before
The minute you leave the garden,
Many toxins target you
No one can understand
And no one can care.
Flowers are pleasant to see,
But not all are pleasant to know.
I may look wilted occasionally
And I might wish to move my roots,
But I sprouted from trembling seeds
And being a coward isn't fatal.
Along with crooding from the elements,
Life's smirk won't grow,
Because a coward's best ability
Is being too scared to admit fear to the world