By Tess Dilzell

The seeds begin to dance in the dirt

When the sun shines and the rain pours.

Growing every day 

The flower begins its journey.

Each day growing taller and taller.

With tender hands along the way 

The flower emerges

Radiating pure beauty and delicacy.

Pedals flourishing

Just waiting to be picked.

As quickly as the flower emerged

It began to die.

The Stem started to wither

And the pedals became weak.

Breaking at the touch of a finger.

Once a thing of pure beauty,

Only now to become worthless.

All walk straight past.

Ignoring what once used to be a beautiful flower