NaPoWriMo Nine: A Tale of Buds

I told myself, there was something to be said about others words.
Every syllable of a mouth vibration, every key note sung,
Is an important flower blooming on the vine of a person.
I told myself to not just take the words from the brightest flowers,
but look at the ill-gotten flowers, for they speak the utmost truth.
I told myself that it’s okay to have wilted flowers,
The people that have them often carry the most colorful vines,
It just takes time for them to bloom their best.
I told myself that every flower is unique,
Every flower has it’s dots, and it’s thorns.
I told myself that thorns don’t make the vines evil,
And the dots don’t always make the flower peaceful.


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