Underneath everyone’s skin

There’s a little flower.

Waiting to be free –

To see the sun.

No matter what color

The skin is,

There’s a delicate flower

Beneath it.

Waiting to be found,

And loved.

Waiting to be led,

To brighter days.

But deep down,

The flower believes that

However hard he wishes,

However long he waits,

He will not be freed from

his dark dingy prison

The flower will always be stuck –

Covered up by layers of rubbery skin.

Never to see the sun –

Ever.

Yet the flower still chooses to hope,

And remain patient,

For what the flower doesn’t know is that one day,

The walls of its jail

Will shrivel away,

Allowing the sun’s rays –

To finally –

shine down –

on the flower’s –

Pale petals.

The flower doesn’t know that he too will be

As free as the rushing wind that surrounds the World.

Free to do whatever the little flower wants.

The little flower doesn’t know all this,

Yet he continues to

Hope,

Wish,

And wait.