deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wall Flower
Look at her,
Standing quiet, standing small
Just a flower on the wall
Let's start a riot,
See if she moves at all.
Look at her,
Still so young and idle,
So much like a child,
begotten and bereft.
So content at first,
But it's all rehearsed.
Is there nothing left
of that blossom whose
Petals had begun to fall?
Are we all still flowers on the wall?
Standing quiet, standing small
Just a flower on the wall
Let's start a riot,
See if she moves at all.
Look at her,
Still so young and idle,
So much like a child,
begotten and bereft.
So content at first,
But it's all rehearsed.
Is there nothing left
of that blossom whose
Petals had begun to fall?
Are we all still flowers on the wall?
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