Flowers so delicately bloom
their roots run deep and thrive
from white to pink
lilacs and hues of purples and reds
such baby blues
to the deepest indigo
a miracle
with the brightest
and most beautiful of petals
a scent to fill the air
fragrances to lift the heart
such a delight it is
to have sight of them
but flowers that are picked
by uncaring hands
will often crush their velvet petals
in their eagerness to have
handling
manhandling
allowing no light
nor care
a desperate want for their eyes
greedy
needy hands
and when the flowers begin to fade
through such damage
they are placed within a press
so that they may be held
for a longing
to covert
all light and care turns away
as the butterfly screws
tightens it's grip
of such delicate petals
time will pass
and maybe it will be remembered
and held to the light
transparent
a tiny shadow of bloom remains
placed
set
among others like itself
and it will be held
for all time
in a book entitled
scrap