This wildflower is blooming
Opening up to the sun
But she fears she’s not beautiful
Because she is not the one
That you picked
She forgets that when she sits
In a vase so delicate
This is when she no longer lives
About the Creator
Lucia B.
Poet
Novelist
Linguist & Aspiring Polyglot
Bibliophile
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Comments (2)
Gives new meaning to the term ‘pick me’! Wonderful metaphor, and I love the brevity of this.
What a beautiful ending, not where I expected the poem to go at all… a much needed reminder ❤️✨