United States

Upon the high cliff lies a flower.

It is more than any ordinary flower.

This flower bleeds with every color of the rainbow,

Stars of crystals dotted on its petals

and glistening in the sunlight.

I reach for the flower,

My fingers almost grazing its greatness,

but then I remember what lies below:

A chasm of crashing waves in a blackened sea.

The waves taunt me,

Beckoning me to release myself into its transparent embrace

If I just reach for that flower.

Uncertainty pushes me away from the floral diamond,

Saying, "it is only a flower. More will grow."

But day after day,

my heart burns for the beauty

and my hands reach out again,

Trying to touch something I want,

but cannot have. 


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