You know, it seems like yesterday it was spring and the flowers were planted on that warm sunny day.

The thunder shaking the hearts of the flowers, making them aware that the worse is to come.

Making them scared to show their true colors and brighten up the world because they know they will be ignored by the people, washed out by the rain, and faded away because of the season. 

They're scared because they know they will get struck by the lightening and drowned by the rain.

Hurting them, leaving them unable to heal until the one spring returns.

It's sad becuase it only comes around once a year.

Spring is all those flowers will have.

They're confused... so confused.

They deside to isolare themselves away from outdoors and keep themselves in the shell of the the seed they were born in.

When spring returns that flower will be the most happiest, and the most beautiful, because only spring excepts that flower and allows it to take how ever long it needs to bloom.

With no doubt or hesitation.

The spring is like a cosey blanket on a winter night to that flower.

That one spring is all the hidden flower will ever have.

That flower knows... that flower looks for that spring... that flower flower is broken without it.

But that flower reminds itself,

"Not ever season fits the flower"