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The Flower

The beautiful, little flower sat upon the hill,
Surrounded and protected by the other plants,
Its vibrant colours, a calling to others.
Pilgrimage of animals, day by day,
To worship- to bask in its glory.
It still stands there, with all its pride.
Living beautifully everyday, spreading joy to everyone.

But then one day it realized, that someday that time will come,
When it will have to wither, and will slowly have to die,
It did not want to lose its beauty, nor did it want to disappear.
The flower wanted to continue,
To be worshiped and idolized for its looks,
It still stands there, with all its pride.
Living beautifully everyday, spreading joy to everyone.

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