A small violet flower sits in her pot,
Wilting away and left out to rot.
Stagnant in growth, surrounded by weeds,
Some food and some water is all that she needs.
People walk near her to get her hopes high,
Looking her way then passing her by.
Others walk closer to rip her apart,
Scoop up some soil, and drain her whole heart.
But there, in the distance, she spies a tall man
With a kindhearted face and a soft, caring hand.
He looks at the flower, wincing in pain,
Then takes her away and gives her a name.
With plenty of water and food to soak in,
The flower grows stronger and gives him a grin.
He enters a contest for the healthiest flower,
And wins a heartbeat, not even an hour.
Her color glowed brighter and she grew quite tall,
Because a man with a heart would not let her fall.