April 24, 2015
You might think I’m just
a fifteen-year-old boy
with dirty blonde hair and ocean-like eyes
But I know I am more
way more than that
not a roller coaster or a summer day
not an essay writing machine
A blooming flower
in the late seasons
Covered from sight or sound
not expressing beauty
or freely waving in the breeze
When I hold back instead of letting it go
I’m frozen
Not blossoming, learning, or growing into my full potential
But when I bloom
petals inviting warmth
feeling, touching, renewing
Inner beauty puts a smile on faces
when I open my heart I grow
spreading joy for a moment
a gift from the earth
Sometimes it’s weeks, days, or years for seasons to pass
these seasons fluctuate like East Texas weather
the flower opens and grows
opens and grows
then returns to the state of lazy, dark, rest
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed teenager
through days of homework, sports, and family
changing every season
a happy, depressed, heart-warming flower all in one day