I have heard it said that love is a flower that you have to let grow, or that a flower can not develop without sunlight just as man can’t develop without love…
But what happens when God develops that flower and it is beautiful and thriving while on the vine… it gets “picked” (more like plucked)
Imagine the trauma that the flower experiences once plucked. The purpose for plucking it may be backed by the best of intentions. Be it a first date, Valentine’s Day, a birthday, wedding day, or a plethora of other “joyous” occasions…
Who if anyone thinks of the wellbeing of the flower, next to no one I’m sure. As long as apologies are accepted and smiles are exchanged the flower has done its job right? It has shown and fostered love…
As soon as it is plucked, it’s death begins. The happiness and love of others takes it from its lifesource. As the music plays, and commitments are made the poor flower is there standing tall and looking beautiful as it suffocates and dies a slow death.
Once it begins to wilt showing signs of needing attention or assistance, it is likely thrown away and often replaced.
I am that flower, yep the flower is me.
If you weren’t going to nourish me, why pick me to be your symbolism of love Knowing that’s all that I could be?
As I sacrifice myself being supportive and displaying love, I am dying and no one bothers to take a moment to care.
While my words of encouragement and prayer help others to make it, to mend, and flourish, I am in pain and wilting! Does anyone see? Of course not, I’ll be replaced, nothing special about me.
So I stand here looking pretty, standing tall and all the while silently gasping and crying for someone to see about me. But that’s too much to ask.
So as my pieces fall around my feet, continue your happy lives as I am well on my way to being nothing more than petals in the wind.
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