Flower

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A commentary on life in the modern age. Not my best work, but there are some parts of this poem I really love.

Submitted: July 28, 2018

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Submitted: July 28, 2018

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Flowers preen

and prune

until full bloom

then we pluck them
from the ground.
Deprived of nutrients,
flowers wilt and
fall without sound.

Reminiscent, you see,
a plant is to humanity,
and the designated path 
each is expected to stride.

The jobs

the places

the smiles

and the faces

all blur,

rushing by.

Takes endless work 
just to keep up
with all that 
bogs us down.
Trying to stay afloat,
we wish for a life-raft;
refusing to dream of a boat.

Who are we
in the grand scheme
but flowers passing by?

Who are we
in the grand scheme
but flowers waiting to die?


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