Perks of Being a Coward

Poem

Murphy was a rain cloud

And brightness pulling the lips' ends

Are always blocked from view

The moment his law pours down on you.

Though the rain encourages growth,

What happens when plants drown?

As buds, we are told we'll reach the stars.

But limbs wilt out of socket

The minute we reach too far.

We used to group in flower beds,

But gardeners can be impatient,

Or they'd snatch out unwanteds,

Or flowers would soak up abandonment

By relying on their own support.

Some flowers start as dandelions

But scatter from you as weeds

Until you're supporting yourself again.

As you turn to the closest roses,

They'll scrape you with the thorns

That they didn't think they needed before

The minute you leave the garden,

Many toxins target you

No one can understand

And no one can care.

Flowers are pleasant to see,

But not all are pleasant to know.

I may look wilted occasionally

And I might wish to move my roots,

But I sprouted from trembling seeds

And being a coward isn't fatal.

Along with crooding from the elements,

Life's smirk won't grow,

Because a coward's best ability

Is being too scared to admit fear to the world