A little hydrangea was slowly dying,
Sitting next to its friends who were doing well
The little hydrangea wondered why nobody wanted it,
With its beautiful pink crowns, and green leaves
Its friends never seemed any better,
Before the cold came
And the little hydrangea started to rot,
While its friends were doing well
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Author:
Mr. Not (
Offline) - Published: March 2nd, 2023 12:09
- Comment from author about the poem: I apologize for disappearing haha. A little poem I started in mid-November when I saw a couple of hydrangeas still alive, one about to rot, and two others doing just fine. kinda felt bad for the rotting flower and decided to do a little anthropomorphism.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments2
Very un-haha on its face, but so blatantly so that you turn the sadness into a sort of dark joke. But I do shed a tear for anyone starting to rot...
It is quite sad when people start rotting, isn't it? Thank you for commenting!
This is a very deep poem.
It is meant to have a humanoid sense of self. Thanks for commenting!
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