The Flower
It stands alone,
Colorless in the sun.
Even the grass Beneth
Isn't Green.
As the Flower
Lonely waits,
For some color
To come along.
The insects buzz,
all day and night.
As the sun and moon
Shine their bright light.
The flower still stands.
The flower still thrives.
The flower still hoping,
To shine its own light.
This poem is about:
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world