I am not a flower.
I do not bloom just by the glorious
rays of sunshine in the spring.
I am not obliterated
by just the mere changing
of the seasons to the next.
I do not wither away when my
world starts to darken
and bitter coldness swallows up
the warmth of the sun.
I am not this fragile thing,
or delicate,
to the winter's icy storms.
The falling of dead, dull leaves
to the Earth beneath my feet
will not be the burial
to my very life source.
No.
You can not reborn something
that had never been destroyed.
I am not a flower.
I am a survivor-
in the light and in the dark.
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 11:35 PM UTC
I am not a flower.
I do not bloom just by the glorious
rays of sunshine in the spring.
I am not obliterated
by just the mere changing
of the seasons to the next.
I do not wither away when my
world starts to darken
and bitter coldness swallows up
the warmth of the sun.
I am not this fragile thing,
or delicate,
to the winter's icy storms.
The falling of dead, dull leaves
to the Earth beneath my feet
will not be the burial
to my very life source.
No.
You can not reborn something
that had never been destroyed.
I am not a flower.
I am a survivor-
in the light and in the dark.
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