This is a VERY old poem (2013?) from a very rough time in my life. It's not as good as my current poetry but...it's relevant...I have hit another rough patch. I felt like sharing this poem right now, although I wrote a different poem a few minutes ago as a tribute to my friend who died yesterday. However...I won't be posting it until I give the original copy to his mother.

I believe this poem was born out of lack of self-confidence and the situation of 2013. My parents had divorced and we moved to a small apartment, we had very little money, my grandfather died, school grades were slipping and on top of everything, dysphoria was building that year too. I know it's not really related to a friend's death, but it just reminded me of a hard time of the past and this new hard time that I will overcome.

Decay of a silent bloom


Dark and damp
Under decay
Under an orange-blue sky
Where yellow trees sway


Striding across a pillow of dead reeds
Under a mountain shadowed by fir
Clouded by deep crimson skies
Lies a small wilting black-tipped flower.


A small mess of petals overlooked
Probably trampled and smashed without knowing
She stands as tall as she can, looking at the sun
Barely holding up her wilting wings.


Under the mountain’s merciless shadow
Surrounded by pearly green and blue fir
The only brown, dead patch
Seemingly leads to her.


But what you don't know is
Out of that ugly brown
Sprouts a brighter, taller
Gleaming green.


I smelt no brilliant fragrance
She was small and sorrowful
But her trying petals showed infinite beauty and strength
Even while she wilted miserably, now noticed.