The Fleeing Flower

It happened this way as well,
The cold breeze entering the foreign land hotel
Frozen air, slow eyes; and so am I
I see a flower injected into a hole
In an old wall, but with a soul
It did seem to detest a farewell
That it took itself to the nearest hall
To where I was taking a stroll
Although it occurred in July
It still did breathe and did not die
I picked it off of the wall
Gentle and well
I had something to tell
I was not expecting a reply
As it seemed somewhat shy
Instead of dwelling in such hell
I urged it the need to rebel;
To stay a flower every hour
And to bless its power
For only love and desire

Poetry by Farah A.Y


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