A Flower Poem by Maria Williams

The mirror waits in the corner
It crouches in horror
For the flower to at last
In night, bloom
Agonized it comes forth from shadows
Creeping along the walls and
Viewing, in disgust
The green vines from which it hangs
Moonlight illuminating only the dirt
On it's scarlet soaked leaves,
Not the petal trapped in misery
Turned from its spectacular beauty and
Seeing only a gross,
Twisted view of the dimension
The flower kills the root of the life
From which it flourished and thrived
And the mirror rocks to itself
Laughing