Yes, there is a flower in a quiet field
A black sheep among weeds
Taking up its lil' patch in a sea of green
A wall flower it was
But with ample sun and rain
It grew day by day
Becoming more beautiful
As it outshined the other plants
Green with envy
And from dainty it was
It became glorious
So majestic with its petals bright
And its scent so alluring
It garnered much attention
And it too was aware of itself
As many came and went
Too curious, intoxicated
Wanting a peek or a quick sniff
Now, quiet the field wasn't anymore
More and more they came and went
As the other plants got trampled
A path of crushed grass was formed
Leading visitors to the flower
They fought, they attempted stealing it
As greedy hands yearning for it potted with soil in their own homes
Hiding behind some bushes and the chaos
Crouched I observing the flower
Revelling at the sight of it form a distance
For
This all I can manage
If I were to unearth it
Put it in a pot
With my imcompetent and inexperienced hands
It surely would wilt and die
Along with its beauty
Forever gone
