Verbal Visions

The Wilting Rose

The Wilting Rose

We grew in fertile soil, my sisters and I.
Stretching to the sun and soaking up the water.
And while we belonged together,
I was not the same color.
My difference made me a beauty
a contrast and compliment to the garden. 
I breathed in life with joy.

And Oh, how tall and beautiful I was.
I was content.
But for only a season.

I am a wilting flower in a garden of summer roses.
As the season changes, I see my sisters.
How tall they have grown.
I am in retreat while they thrive.

I was so proud to be the first bloom,
the most beautiful in the garden.
But my petals have faded.

Although I am in the bouquet,
and my color part of the rainbow,
I am the contrast.
The least of them.

In their presence,
I am the once eclipsed,
dwarfed, and hidden in shadows.

I am proud to be part of the bouquet.
But no longer deserve to be counted.
I am a wilting flower,
plucked to early,
and left to die.


NaPoWriMo Day 7 - Regret