2 days ago
And there was a flower waiting to be cut,
not caring about the pain,
not caring about its slow death.
it just wanted to be held for a while inside some dirty palm and then whither and die completely,
rather than keep watching forever humans standing tall in front of it and walking past without even a single glance.
but flowers like this one are not meant to be cut.
such flowers are meant to be loved where they are.
each night it'd say; «this side of the pavement is the loneliest.»
then, it would turn its petals away from the flowers that tried to reach it and silently cry,
while all the love it needed was there next to it.