Petals imperfectly organized

Emerging from a pollen-filled center

The stem sprouting from its rooted position

A beauty living off the dirt and sun

Looking to be seen among many

In grossed by the love of other,

Never more to the eye but its head

A wanted replaceable item of its beauty

But all of them with wilt

Or are captured in a stillness

Unrequited love gone to far by wants

Quietly some of them carry out their lives

Under the same sun as the rest

Everlasting peace and quiet

The flower’s beauty