You are always the flower and never the florist
Admired and pampered,fed sweet,silken sunlight by the spadeful
Budding in action,all gather to gawk and treasure you in their chests
Receptacle at your center
The buzzing pools of people are swarming in attention
Your petal splits,and dew drops sorrowfully
Now you are cooed to,even granted somber apologies for pushing your pointed leaves past breaking
Remind you of the chlorophyll coursing through your veins
Chloroform drowning me in vain
I am the florist,and never the flower
My time and meticulous effort
Ripped from my hearts soil
Plucked possessively,pitifully from my garden of love
I sit,planted in firm compacted,yearning soil
Passed by and glanced over
Ignored as human
Surpassed by my talent "naturally" sprung
Not sown
I am the second choice,
The other option,when perceived as a person
Left with none but my bittersweet "triumphs"
I am "mediocre"
To my rotten
Bland
Boring
Ugly
Human
Core
My stem,
My roots,
Have created an unneeded plant,a weed
My sympathy has been uprooted
And I can no longer bother
Nor care for praise from others,towards my creations
My humane features seen as alien to them
I have been uprooted
Cut short at the roots
Where all beauty supposedly comes from.