The sun weighs upon my shoulders
and I find myself hunch over
closer to the ground.
My head unable to set high
as my stem sags with days
and my pistil threatens
to kiss the ground.
I watch for her delicate pink gloves
and I hope she plucks
my blooming smile.
I stretch out my petals
trying to capture her eyes
and watch as she picks
every other bud around me.
I feel myself deteriorating.
My roots shrivel into thin strands
and my leaves crumble and fall from my stalk.
Every minute vibrates in my cells
and all I can do is watch for her.
I hope she feels me worth
and she grants me an honorable death
instead of food for the aphids and worms.
Poetic Trials 