Flowers

not the right season for this kind of poem, at all...its an old one I found, from a little over a year ago.

Flowers,

We all have things that we have to grow through,

at times, life is inconvenient, at best,

like the tiny flower growing out of concrete.

I may seem hard on the outside, but inside I am soft.

I flow, like a River.

I let my pain go into a much more vast Sea.

We must continue to grow like the seedling.

I anticipated heavy rainfall,

but not the scorching Sun.

It hurts my skin.

I wilt and I faint.

This World, has not been kind to me.

This cocoon, is my body.

My bones are brittle.

I await the mercy of rebirth.

Author's Note

Revolution Dark Floral Print, by AWB.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Me too my friend.
"This cocoon, is my body.
My bones are brittle.
I await the mercy of rebirth."
I tell people. We will change faces and we will change how we think many tines in a long life. Rebirth is necessary. Thank you dear poet for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[emmajoygreen]

At root we are what we come from, remaining similar til we fade or.. adopt what we can if only to survive.
Life is not always an award but a trial.. but.. we need try best we can and - we can.
Fine words, a battle of letters maybe, trying to find strength.. seems you can - and do,

'I await the mercy of rebirth.' You're words, attitude is courageous and defiant - the time to be, to act has come.