deepundergroundpoetry.com

I'm Zinnia
I was put upon the window sill garden
Next to begonia, awaiting the sun
Day after day rising behind us from the east warming our flowered souls
Then setting upon our faces from the west
Rays dancing on blooms
Then suddenly she died, oh my how I cried
No hopes of a resurrection for you my dear
I'm beginning to wither away myself
Life has become busy as I'm becaming less important, neglected
My little patch of earth is now just dry dirt
I'm being invaded by house ants and spiders
Cobwebs abound my sky, wrapped in silk
I'm a nest for flies upon the window screen
Death is all around me, soon I'll be joining in the ranks
I don't think I'm gonna last
Spring is beginning to heat up from the summer that's approaching me fast
My roots are staring for nutrients and minerals
In this pot that I live in
Someone has forgotten to water me
When they bought me from the farmers market in this two bit town and brought me home
Please water me someone
Cant you see as my head hangs low, like from a gallows pole
I want to live and bloom again
There is still hopes of a resurrection
Among the window sill garden
-ADuarte
Next to begonia, awaiting the sun
Day after day rising behind us from the east warming our flowered souls
Then setting upon our faces from the west
Rays dancing on blooms
Then suddenly she died, oh my how I cried
No hopes of a resurrection for you my dear
I'm beginning to wither away myself
Life has become busy as I'm becaming less important, neglected
My little patch of earth is now just dry dirt
I'm being invaded by house ants and spiders
Cobwebs abound my sky, wrapped in silk
I'm a nest for flies upon the window screen
Death is all around me, soon I'll be joining in the ranks
I don't think I'm gonna last
Spring is beginning to heat up from the summer that's approaching me fast
My roots are staring for nutrients and minerals
In this pot that I live in
Someone has forgotten to water me
When they bought me from the farmers market in this two bit town and brought me home
Please water me someone
Cant you see as my head hangs low, like from a gallows pole
I want to live and bloom again
There is still hopes of a resurrection
Among the window sill garden
-ADuarte
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