The Most Beautiful Wallflower

She was the most beautiful wallflower.

Queen of the unseen.

Ruler of that that did not matter.

Leader among the lost.

--

In her own world

She would reign until those street lights blew fire.

Signifying a leak in the freshly clipped and ripped red roses

That would soon over flood the room of beige beauties.

--

Pushed to the back.

Pushed to the back they go.

Huddled into one tiny trap that mixed the colors

To blend as one bland blossom

Quietly waiting for the roses to depart as to break free for so short a time.

--

They were never watered to perfection

Or drowned to be flawless.

But thrived on the darkness that engulfed the trap they laid in

To live one bleaker day in the garden that never grew.

And watch beyond the green house glass to marvel in sweet perfume.

--

But the most beautiful wallflower didn’t care.

She enjoyed her sincerity that was held within a small bulb

That was yet to fully blossom into the most beautiful of all.

--

She would smile at every event

Knowing that she would be seen for more than her indifferent beauty.

For more than the wall that she hid behind

Because she would erupt into something no one could ignore.

The most beautiful wallflower would become the garden itself.