One day I stumbled upon an unhealthy plan. It had a chance of surviving, but it was slim. It was dying but I could see so much beauty. It spoke to my sad soul. I related to the plant. It caused me to think. Then coming back to reality, I scoffed and stomped on the flower, ripping it apart. How stupid of me to think such things. My life isn't poetic. I was never beautiful. Although, now I could relate to the flower. All crushed and torn apart. Shredded and crumpled. Just like my heart.