My color fades,
The cold air blows around me,
As I'm there, planted,
my roots hold on more tightly,
digging deeper and deeper
until finally i know that i will remain, planted.

My yellow petals,
yellow like the sun,
turn to white with age.

I feel old,
and more weak,
as the light turns into darkness
and the darkness back into light.

I watch my destiny being fulfilled by others,
until finally something stubby pulls us out of what we call home.

They close their beads,
and then blow,
our white seeds flow, swiftly, softly,
through the air,
until more of us grow.

I wait and wait for my turn.

Brown strings hanging down from a stamen,
stubby branches reach towards my old, worn body.

My roots are pulled in one swift motion,
and out of the cool refreshing dirt i go.

As im lifted towards thin red lines,
i see the blue beads close,
the red lines start to move as something is whispered.

Before my white petals are ripped from me,
I realize,
that this is what im here for,
to give someone something that they didnt have before,
hope.