Look At Us

Bees often hum a little tune
Flying to flowers all afternoon.
The colors yellow, pink, red, and green
Are found in parks, houses, and magazines.
"Look at the beautiful flowers!" People exclaim
So easily entertained.
To some this is beauty; absolutely divine
Looking at nature which seems to shine.
Fit and thin? Where to begin?
We see what society sees
And always wanting to agree.
Is this rose absolute? Must she be perfectly complete? "Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder"
Why must we act so much colder?
Don't judge what she looks like
When her color fades to dislike.
No longer standing straight, her stem so green
From one time she felt like a queen.
Remaining alone forever it seemed.
No one to hold
No one to stand by her and grow old.
No one to talk to
No one to share anew.
Feeling sad and alone
Lacking to speak in a good tone.
Though she sees you there
Having absolutely no cares.
She feels invisible
And not very desirable.
Only wishing for you to speak a word
Or hearing her speak a word.
"Hello. I'm here.
Just to make it clear.
I've liked you for a very long time
Trying to make the climb
To tell you I've liked you for a very long time.
I am a rose; wilted; left alone
Almost making my heart turn to stone
Seeing you there I could only stare
And hope you see me.
You could probably agree
The other flowers are prettier than me
Showing all colors willingly.
I am a simple, pale flower
Asking to be showered
With love and affection I've never been given.
I was very driven
To talk to you today
But now I see I am merely drifting away."
With a silence stronger than words
The man walked over to the rose as if he heard
Her long forgotten words.
Picking her up and trimming her stem
Holding her as if she was a gem.
"She's lost her color," He had said
Turning to a girl who constantly read.
"Pale and wilted, she seems to be.
Was probably sitting there unhappily"
The man looked at her with such awe
"She's not as pretty" says the girl quite flawed.
"No you're wrong. Don't you see?
This flower is the prettiest and gives me such glee
Such a rare flower indeed."
A rare flower growing here
If you don't look hard enough she'll never appear.
A rare flower just for you
Waiting to be picked and loved by you.
Looks are not everything we should see
But rather the personality.
Find yourself a rare flower among them all
And remember boys, don't let them fall.

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


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