Going Through Changes

December 19, 2010
By , East Northport, NY
My family is a delicate flower,
Growing, falling, standing.
Living life, changing each step of the way.
Going wherever the wind blows.
My step dad is the pot,
Keeping everything together.
But when it cracks,
Things start to fall apart.

My mom is the soil,
The reason we survive,

The reason we can grow.
The soft, supportive ground for the flower to plant its feet on.
And I,
I am the flower,
Still growing, still changing, still becoming me.
Growing farther from the pot and farther from the soil,
Branching out in other directions.





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

nancyyy said...
Jan. 6, 2011 at 7:37 pm
I like the metaphor used throughout the poem. Family and the flower. I think its really clever, creative, and unique. Each family member has their job and part of the flower. Good job.
 
falling10ssupernova said...
Jan. 6, 2011 at 7:29 pm
great metaphor really seems to work with what your saying
 
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