Isn't it strange how she softly blooms
In places sometimes yet to be known
With ample sun and a little rain
She thrives and blends where the will
Of the wind carries her dreams.
Her petals have seen war-torn cities
Abandoned tombs and broken homes
Her thorns betrayed her without mercy
Made her bleed a thousand times
Yet she didn't lose a lonely breath.
At times she's a wilted flower
By the windowsill, she sits
Waiting for the sunrise's kiss
After she danced with the stars
And cast her midnight wish.
She's a wildflower, a wallflower
Wonderfully rolled into one
Meant to bloom in her own time
Even if she doesn't belong to a garden
Or hold a perfect spot under the sun.
12.16.20
©amsterdam
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