She was a typical
petite little seed.
Surrounded by beautiful periwinkles,
violets, orchids, daisies, lilies.
Taller than her.
Prettier than her.
But she bloomed
one very orderly spring evening.
Boy, did the garden go wild.
Three inches taller than last spring!
Liquid rushed through her roots.
Clovers would turn greener than usual,
Roses turned a deep shade of red,
She was changing everyone around her.
Perhaps her beauty was
too much to sustain.
Perhaps people hadn't noticed
how pretty she would turn to be.
She was the life of the garden,
and gardens have enough life already.
She didn't care.
She was now beautiful.
Tulips would occasionally steal some glances,
violets would stutter in admiration.
She was her own garden,
radiating floral vibes.
It was her choice.