Born’d from the tippy top
The mighty hold its ground,
Falling down- a spec from a crop,
Hope for the future bound,
Lying there helpless waiting to grow,
Concern for the safety of the inherited,
Its red hue slowly diminishing glow,
Love for there own imperative.
From Rosy rouge to Beastly brown,
Soft murmurs-the heart beats,
To the depths it sinks down,
Sickly crawlers eating flesh retreat,
Wishing and begging for mortal fate,
Unknowing of the future that await,
Rotting down to the core,
Toil and suffering never known before,
“Grow up!” they scream at me,
As I sprout out from myself,
“You need to take responsibility!”
Secure and rooted in place,
“Find your courage.”
I peak out into the light,
My leaves unfold bound for flight,
The suns warmth a memory now reality,
How could I have ever questioned my mortality?
With a love like this,
I could never dismiss.
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