Wildflower
Here I am again. It was just yesterday I was free to grow, free to be reckless in my innocents.
Rooted to the very thing that decorates my correction.
Here i am once again. Frozen without neglect
Cold with my sights beyond my circumstances.
Bitter in my ignorance of when my revival will spring forth.
So I wait.
Damp and cold with the only warm that this is not forever.
Here is not forever.
So I wait.
So I wait.
This was written by a friend a long time ago. I guess he didn't think it was any good, he threw it away. I found it in the trash that day, years ago, and stashed it in a folder that I found today. (I wrote it as he wrote it.)
timely.