Pansy

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.