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My Special Flower
by
George Wentz

There among the weeds,
fighting its way to the light,
I found a simple flower.

It tries to claim some space,
some air,
some room to grow.

This is no royal bloom,
like a rose or an orchid,
but still true to its nature.

Unpretentious,
practically unnoticeable,
it has a beauty of its own.

Day after day
I watch over the little flower,
wanting it to succeed.

A drink of water,
some extra attention,
and I see it respond.

It's roots begin to strengthen,
it thrives.
The result is my happy reward.

Then one morning
my flower lies on the ground,
carelessly trampled under foot.

How could this be?
Unimportant to others,
it was special to me.

It has been destroyed,
I can do nothing to help it.
Our harmony is broken.

If only yesterday
could come again,
for my flower and me.

--Submitted by George Wentz on 2011-07-26.

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