I was a baby bud,
born to be beautiful,
pure and poised.
Proud petals of perfection
grown in a gorgeous garden.
Too quickly, I was clutched
from my fragrant family,
fondled by strangers,
harsh hands
of inhumane humans.
I cringed and cried.
My colored white innocence
was weathered,
wilted and withered away
to sepia stains of shame.
My edges singed by shock;
strong stem, snapped,
tainted and tormented
by this touch.
Thorns could not protect me.
Left lonely and lost,
denied my garden’s gift
to blossom and bloom.
Denied a life of love,
I began the dreadful decent
to my demise.
Drained of my dignity,
sadly sickened and diseased.
I slowly dried and died.
Honorable mention
Adding your comment:
Love, C
