– odd enigma.
a lonely flower amidst a grassland,
feels like the air plays me a joke
of push and pull.
lush greens of grassblades taunt me,
for i am alone with my kind extinct.
they stare me down
because they are too many,
and in majority.
yet ain't they too common?
they want to make me feel the odd one out,
whilst i am the only difference in their similarity.
it is how this world runs,
it is how we are;
scared of anything we don't understand.
it is not my fault for being a flower,
yet it is that i am the enigma in their knowing.
YOU ARE READING
swevens of vernorexia
Poetryi shall bloom flowers of love in your heart, so you may bleed petals for blood when i leave.
