I want to be a flower.

So bold and pretty they be,

As they glance upwards into the sky

Who brought down their agony.

Cursed to live on the very ground

They will die,

Flowers stand tall throughout the rainy times.

Although swirls of white

Prove to be their own master,

Petals fall, with reassurance, to rise again.

I will be a flower,

Whose scent will calm thy rage.

My days are spent

Awaiting the happiness I brought to those around me.