ASSIGNMENT XIV:
☼ The Red Flower ☼
☼ The Red Flower ☼
It is as unpleasant as paper-cut between the toes.
Everybody knows,
That anger always grows,
Like a knot in a million bows.
Suddenly, a beautiful red flower appears beneath you,
It’s sweet fragrance, you kneel down to smell,
Is suddenly spoiled, by lingering thoughts of yesterday.
How your mind re-lives the event,
Replaying it over, and over.
Like a broken record,
It begins to be broken-up into simpler clips,
Prolonging some parts,
And skipping others all together.
The flower, which seemed so beautiful a moment before,
Now could be as ugly as the anger you feel,
Pounding against your skull.
Sitting down, you pluck the innocent flower from the soil,
And began ripping it to shreds,
It’s petals falling to the ground,
All various shades of reds.
They fall slowly, drifting back, and fourth with the wind,
Dark, light, faded, and bold reds, all drift back to the soil.
Retreating into the depths of your mind,
You try to shut-down the memories,
Which are flowing-out uncontrollably.
The anger which accompanies the memories,
Feels like a train wreck,
Just as difficult to stop.
You remember a sweet voice, a comforting one,
It tells you, ‘you are being silly, little one, why worry, when there is no need?’
It automatically snaps you out of it, the stem still in your hands.
Realizing the words are one’s you’ve said before, you laugh,
And hold the stem close to your lips, lovingly, and whisper, “I am sorry.”
“It looks like anger has made a fool of me again.”
Letting the stem fall to the ground as well, you stare into the mess you’ve made,
Until the wind carries it all away, seeming to sweep your anger with it, clearing your mind.
And you smile.
Aurora Silverwood
Assignment 14
Assignment 14
