I originally wrote this in May of '07 b/c of a 'friend' that left me with a knife in my back and him thinking he did nothing wrong. After a couple of recent events, I felt this the perfect time for a re-surfacing...
Then she asked me
This priceless flower to my grace
What color should suit me best
In this, most desolate of hours
The color of Courage
Of Strength or Valor
Maybe the color of Chivalry
Or even an Infancy of Understanding
I simply shook my head
To this compassionate flower of mine
No, my color should not be any of those
But that of Vanity and Fear
My beautiful flower, she cannot perceive
The shades I hold in my sagacity
The color of Timorous or Introvert
Or maybe a slight tint of Disposition
I may never become what she hopes for me
But for this Belladonna Flower
That I hold so dear to my heart
I will aspire to show my best abilities
To wear the colors she's chosen
Wear them with Pride and a little Humility
Maybe the color of Persistence will take control
Enough to give me the chance to say...
I love you
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