A Flower

I saw a flower, a precious flower, Being tussled by the wind, I bent and thought to pluck it free, But what a terrible sin. For hands like mine are clumsy and large, The flower they’d surely tear, A gentler hand to hold it close, The hand of a lover more fair. I left it there and traveled on, But watched it in minds-eye, I dared not hope it remain apart, As lonely then as I. And as I sit, in company of friends, I yearn to look again, Their jokes and humour pass me by, In silence I remain. At work the flower proves distraction, From the savagery of their voice, The thought of beauty cleans the air, Illusions, reason to rejoice. My mind is made, I will go back, And take my precious one With tenderness, I’ll hold it gently, As fair as any man. But upon return my heart does sink, I see a field of bloom, And standing still, outshining all, I spy my lovely one. But turn my back I surely must, For I know I cannot remain, With all the handsome blooms to choose, A broken heart would seal my pain.i wrote this when i was 18 (a long time ago). i was brought up in a rough part of my little town and i really liked a girl, my sisters friend, who came from a nice area. i was really worried before i asked her out. turns out she said her parents wouldn't let her go out with someone from my area. so i was right. anyways, thats what its about. and guess what...it didn't seal my pain! :-) Written January 28th, 2002 © on Jan 28 2002 01:45 AM PST   0 • 8