The Wallflower

Rooted in the corner
Nameless flower upon the wall
An unremarkable feature
amidst the gardener’s ball.
Where wildflowers boldly dance
Showing off their blooms
Beckoning the gardeners
enticing eager grooms
The limelight which they seek
Is the light from which she hides
Rooted in the corner
Amongst the paper she resides
Fragrant sweet bouquets have 
no place for her to fit
Her petals veiled by darkness
Of the corner where she sits
The gardener does not notice
Her bloom he shall not wear…
…Her fragrance goes unnoticed
No marriage will they share
Rooted in the corner
Only insects know her nectar
The bees know well her taste
As they make the sweetest honey
From ambrosia of the chaste
Slowly they devour and steadily consume
Attracted to her essence
The sweetest of perfumes
Rooted in the corner
no words are ever spoken
for roots of fear are forged 
in hell and dare not to be broken
Rooted in the corner
Slow-dancing with her shadow
Season’s passed, her roots have dried
The Gardener’s ground left fallow.

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