The Flower

The innocent flower sheds a tear at the world destroying her beauty...
Yet although the world destroys her beauty, the innocent flower still remains.
What if the flower were to be destroyed? What would we have then...?
Yet if the flower dies, surely we would be left a leaf? Something to remember it by?
Or would it be better to have the stem, ugly though it is, to bring a new flower to life?
Let us keep the stem and reuse it. But we need good soil to place it in for it to grow...
But where can we find good soil on this Earth? Is there any left that will allow the flower to grow?


I wrote this when I was 15: over three months at the end of some of my diary entries, I'd write one line about this flower, and I've only just put the seven lines together.

I've tried my hand at writing poetry before, and I'm not good at it at all. I can come up with ideas and stories, but I'm not good with words and with phrasing things. I can't remember why I added a picture of a flower at the end of one of my diary entries - I think I was feeling very low at the time, and felt that I was like this flower. With each line, I drew a picture of this flower slowly decaying, then of her leaf, then of the stem being planted in fresh ground. I saw it as being hopeful that I could recover from the depression I felt at the time.

Thinking about it, where is good soil on this Earth for this flower to grow? Assuming that we're using the flower as an analogy for myself as a possible-Aspie, is there somewhere where I could be and develop my full potential? Or will this flower (this sounds a bit pretentious) be in an environment that's unnatural for her, and will she just have to focus her attention to adaptation rather than self-growth? Maybe we're all flowers in this respect: sometimes we develop our full potential, other times we just try to survive and adapt.

I like to think that everybody is capable of reaching their full potential, as long as there is hope (I'm an annoying optimist in some respects).