Flower in a vase.

A lilac floating against the wind
serving it's time to the state
like the hot air balloon overflowing with hopeless dreams.
A forget-me-not hanging on the rain's delicate notes
before leaving into mysterious skies.
Gardener paint the petals of each stunning flower
so not to forget white teeth and green eyes and crimson bottom lip.
The nights have changed, I can no longer rest through them. I bury myself beneath them.
I bask in a beauty always left unknown and I will never share.
The end of night comes and the other plants awake
and the poison ivy and the weed and the rose with it's thorns
poke fun at my joy.
Oh, what a life for the twisted poppy!
Don't graze me, don't pluck me,
I'm only little,
I don't want to be in your vase.