When I was a little girl,
I quickly took to finger painting.
It seems that many still enjoy
Tracing brush strokes across my deepest canvases.
If you look closely you will find:
Faded lines from those who left over time,
Smudged pictures from those who did not deserve to stay,
But also the most breathtaking masterpieces
From those who proved their desire to remain
By painting the beauty of my eternal flame.

When I was a little girl,
I only thought it was arts and crafts
To make prints out of fallen leaves
And press flower petals between my favorite book pages.
But now it appears to be so much more;
For with just a bit of pressure
Beauty can be timelessly preserved.
Whether that can be found in your favorite chapters
Or the ones you try hardest to avoid,
Those worth showing your petals to will cherish every word.