Note: I haven't written for a few weeks right? Working on another story to be released in another month or so, for reasons I still don't quite get myself. This story… or rather poem, was inspired by a small flower I saw at my school. It was the only one there and beside it was just more leaves. Well, back to the poem. This is my first actual poem… except for one or two other pieces of crap that I wrote for school or whatever it was, so go easy on this one. Does a poem HAVE to rhyme? I wrote this on a whim, and it sounds corny every time I read it again. But I just wanna know how well this one will turn out… give me a few pointers as well. I stressed at the ending, thinking of a suitable line, so talk about that as well. Okay, now do me a favor and click the review button…
I remember the days we used to spend together,
So full of joy and laughter.
Thinking it would last forever,
Those unforgettable moments.
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Then without warning,
Those thieves chose to steal from her.
But she just had to begin resisting;
Soon she was beyond healing.
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Then I remembered the garden she owned,
The one in Henesys with hundreds of flowers we had grown.
But my arrival was one too late;
The flowers we grew were all gone: dead.
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Everything we used to share was mercilessly robbed from me,
Even the oldest apple tree.
Some jerks had gone and burnt the garden,
The place of all our precious memories.
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Then just when all hope had seemed to be gone,
I saw a lone flower growing near the fence.
Its petals were a bright yellow which reminded me of her,
Of how she was always the bright and positive one.
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I brought it home and re-planted it,
Caring for it and loving it,
Just as I would have for her.
And before long it grew healthy and strong.
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Then one day when I came home from my hunting,
I saw a young warrior running freely in our front yard.
I angrily chased him away while rushing,
Longing to water my little flower.
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Then shock came over me;
My flower was no longer there.
Instead lay half a stem with the top snapped off,
Reminding me of her final empty stare.
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I had to get the flower back,
But I no longer knew where the boy had went!
All the hard work and effort was gone,
But more importantly, so was she…
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The next time you feel you like a flower,
And decide to claim it for yourself,
Think about me and think about her,
Then ask yourself how much you think it is worth.
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For it may just be a flower to you,
Something ordinary and so common.
But to me it is more than just that,
It's the only thing that kept her there in my heart.