In my country,
Our national flower is the plumeria, or dok champa as we call it.
It has smooth, broad leaves
With a thick stem.
They are painted completely white
Except for their stained yellow centers.
They grow sweetly in monasteries and temples
And serve as a tender sign of joy and peace.
Their petals are used to comfort all ages alike.
They evoke happiness in the saddest of people
And laughter from the most impassive.
I have not seen them in years.
I haven't seen him in days.
They both couldn't live here even if they tried.
I wish they could though.
I'm going to make it.
But at what cost?
Walking around the small cell,
I constantly remind myself of negative memories.
Irresponsibilities and mistakes and arguments
Swarm my brain and crowd my mind.
How ignorant was I then.
Just then,
A letter was delivered and held something precious.
It broke my heart when I first read it,
But now warms my body
It became my will to live.
It was a pale shade of yellow
That reflected a sincere soul
And contained a familiar address
That made a flutter in my stomach.
It bore the words:
...Mom.......
...doing fine here....nice family....
....it's okay....still happy...
...still love you......thank you.....
...can do it...I'll be waiting...
....love...son...
Along with the letter
There was a collection of small boxes
Wrapped in silk white ribbons
And stained with crafting glue at places.
I took them with the curious expression.
Inside,
Small origami flowers lay in cotton
Painted with gentle yellow centers
And bright green stems.
The paper used was so smooth
That even the edges could not give you a papercut.
Tears and a smile came across my face
As my eyes lay upon them.
They grow so fast.
Both the flowers and children.
YOU ARE READING
Pallete
Poesíapoems (possibly stories) relating to art, which can range from painting to pottery to drawing and much more purpose is to evoke emotion i hope you enjoy reading it! feel free to comment suggestions, tips, or stories you want to hear about PLEASE NOT...
