The Life of Every Good Soul

In the midst of a forgotten forest,

among old trees and new,

grew a plant, green and fresh as young schoolboy,

curled slightly towards the the glorious sun,

feeling a sense of satisfaction and pride

after having made the most commendable effort

fighting its way out; emerging

from the hard, unyielding earth 

and touching it new little face towards the sky,

revelling in the joy of finally basking in sunshine.

 

Slowly it grew,

unfurling leaves, dropping them,

until finally one day, it unvieled a bud

and watched it grow

each petal opening outwards 

till it lay in full bloom;

its beatiful tender form

a sight for sore eyes

and the little sapling thought,

'I have now begun fulfilling my purpose',

and danced happily with the breeze

 

when all of  a sudden, 

 the stormy dark clouds,

frowning its jealousy from the heavens, 

unleashed its terrible wrath 

upon this beauty it could ne'er hope to achieve

and where the plant had stood nodding its head to the sky,

there now remained only cold, hard hail

as the tiny plant and its pretty flower

lay crushed underneath.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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