The Flower I Was.

The winds blow south across the fields.
Rustling my petals, the breeze slight, it feels.

Raindrops land on my leaves and also my roots.
The kids walk by splashing puddles, wearing boots.

I am just a flower and one day I will die.
Until then I'll pretend I can fly like the birds in the sky.

Don't feel sad for my death, feel happy that you saw me shine.
I am happy that a passerby picked me to ease their strife.

For I am just a flower.
That's all I ever was.