Vitus the Houseplant

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Inside the mind of Vitus the Houseplant.

Submitted: May 03, 2017

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Submitted: May 03, 2017

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What does it mean

To be alive?

Thought the serene

Houseplant Vitus.

 

Having no line

Of work, the plant,

In his green shrine,

Thought such questions.

 

What else could one

Houseplant proceed?

Stretch towards the sun?

But why? he asked.

 

Why live? he thought.

For aesthetics?

Answers he sought,

Stretching towards light.

 

Never did he

Acquire answers,

He did not see

But one sole Truth.

 

But still he thought,

If just for fun.

But still he thought,

To wake his mind.

 

Very pretty

Did he become:

Humility

Paints perfection.

 

And so he bloomed,

And the humans

Noticed and doomed

All his flowers.

 

Vitus was stripped

Of his blossoms,

Him now worshipped

For his beauty.

 

The humans stole

Buds off Vitus

Until a sole

Flower remained.

 

It too was lost

To man, to the

Ignorant frost

Of the Winter.

 

And poor Vitus

No longer thinks,

For arduous

Is this fancy life.

 


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