Stem

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 22, 2018

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Submitted: August 22, 2018

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There were none

Truer than
My Stem
Rooted deeper than

Our faint existence
Though I perched blinded
A wilting disappointment
The suns beamed

So brightly
Soils cradled me

So tightly and once

The breeze Taught me

To samba
I bloomed away
Pollinating

You would complicate
The truth that flowers need sunshine

And my kind can't grow

Inside itself
Growing and

Growing then

Gone
An intimate introvert of sorts


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