she picks the fragile petals
off the bright stem and watches them
flutter slowly down to the floor while
she listens to the secrets shared behind
the door to her old wooden home
as the voices start to get louder, harsher
and her heart starts to beat faster;
sometimes these things happen,
but why do they have to happen to her?

she picks the soft yellow flower
until nothing is left but a small green stalk
and smiles while the petals fly away
with the calm wind and she imagines
that she floats along with them
to a happier home woven throughout
the pastel meadow to start
fresh and grow strong and beautiful
just like her flower.