flowers sequel
Poetry, 2018
The Science of Flowers
​
against the cottage it grows, gritty,
you look down, filled with pity
at yellow petals, hiding resentment
they’re droopy, the stem bent
she asks you, “Why am I not pretty?”
yellow’s her color, bright and gay
standing there, lonely like a castaway
you reply,
“darling, you’re the prettiest sunflower I’ve ever seen.”
yes, truly an uncrowned queen
says she, with a pout
“the butterfly doesn’t want to take me out!”
she then talks about roses—how beautiful they are
red’s like a burning star,
and how
yellow isn’t taking her very far
you tell her
red’s their color—blood and maroon
thorns are hidden, ripped apart soon
bold and vicious, they attract butterflies
she listens and smiles
but deep down,
she cries
roses? sweethearts, in disguise,
they’re scared of the sunrise
the sunflower blooms under the blue moon
again, she smiles sadly
as the sparks in her eyes slowly fade
she sighs,
“I’m never anyone’s favorite shade.”