Composed 10/8/13
Description: Another Lit Arts Mag hopeful.
Born into darkness
A husk of coulds and maybes
With no control over our start
We battle and stretch to gain nourishment
And against all odds we twist
Panting, gasping
Into the light
But that’s not the end
We endure storms, famine, change
One day we bloom
The next we die
Trimmed back, pruned
Tamed
But it’s ripping off the dead parts of us
Though painful and not so pretty
That helps us realize who we are
We finally bloom fully
So while I’m proud of your flowers, dear
Do not let that be all I see
Open up, turn back the seasons
Tell me all your stories
Scraps of Paper 