I’d like to be a flower of some sort or another.
They seem so unapologetic and calm.
When was the last time a flower apologized
For not being bigger or more colorful?
I waste so much time wondering about things,
(Yes, including the nature of art and pornography).
I get so caught up in the ideas behind life
That I sort of forget to do the living.
That’s why I’d like to be a flower:
They don’t ask why they are red
Or why they exist. They just do,
And they’re perfectly satisfied as the beautiful,
Ephemeral things that they are.
I’d like to be a flower.
Those short things people walk by (or on)
Because the jokes on the busy-bodies who never notice:
Flowers don’t crave our attention, they don’t need us.
We need them.
(First two pics are mine, the last one I got from this person http://c-feet-c.deviantart.com/; random search on google images).