|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
![]() Tell me, O wildflower, what is wrong? What beguiles you, what allures your covetous heart? Why do you seek the burden of beauty— is it not enough, the petals you have? You strain your eyes, but you fail to realize
that you are scrutinizing for something that is tucked away in the dark— that your utopia is but a fruitless fantasy vanquished by the winds of fortune and fame. O wildflower, That life is endless sob of sorrow and regret— for as you give up your life, in return, none you get. Besides, what vitality and strength do you lack? The world strangles your conflicted conscience sifting you down to the bottom of the pack— But beauty is not found by looking, nor searching, but by knowing, and I know you thrive, despite being stepped upon— you sing and dance and twirl and laugh, procuring sunlight in the darkest of alleys. I know you are the daughter of the breath ocean waters— and after all, you are a flower, and all flowers bloom. Tell me, O wildflower, what is wrong? For what faith— what soul— what spirit, and what power— is better found than in a wildflower? Comments are closed.
|
Categories
All
* = Editors' Choice work
Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
November 2023
|