Uncertainty clings to my mind
like morning due to brand-new greenery.
I know not what weeds lurk unseen
nor of the beauty that has yet to be

should I remain a lone flower
sheltered in the shield of a sepal
in waiting for my hour of opening
unprotected to the **** of people
yet fully alive, honest and free.

OR am I that withering ****
in need of severing with one Swift swing .
harsh enduring and ruthless
a hideous prickly mess
growing at the price death

one day will I grow to bare a beautiful fruit
or
draw blood from those that pull on my root