Facade
Flowers are supposed to smell sweet.
That is what I thought upon first inspection.
How could a flower be so beautiful,
Yet have such a pungent and foul smell?
Flowers have a reputation to uphold, you see.
They must be Tangerine with Pink tones
And a Yellow base. They should be shaped like
A cup, ready to catch the compliments thrown to them.
They should be layered like a person,
Dark on the inside and bleached by the sun on the outside.
Or Lavender with kisses of Purple lining the bottom
A Yellow belly, right in the center
A Lilac Red clings to the tips,
Waiting to jump off.
Pollen swims in the center
Yellows and Orange couples dance in the sun.
Or a pastel Yellow flower that emits serenity.
It is so small in color yet big in character.
It starts as a deep Yellow and ends in an almost White color.
There is no deeper layer to this flower,
Much like the person looking at it.
The edges are ruffled like the hair of a child,
After their father messes it up.
There are spots of an electric Orange,
Splattering across the lips of the bud.
Beneath these bitter smelling flowers are rocks and dirt.
Perhaps they’d smell more like real flowers,
If they came from a softer background.
The poisonous ants crawl around,
Waiting for something to bite.
Vines stem from these flowers too.
Their umbilical cords are a deep Purple,
With Green lines going along with them.
They have leaves and flowers sprouting from them on every inch.
The small garden is surrounded with concrete,
Worn down and chipped on the edges.
From students sitting and looking at the flowers.
The rocks that are sprinkled in are various shades of Browns and Oranges.
The Turquoise paint is cracked and mostly missing.
The ants crawl there, too.
Color is an important part of this piece, so I like how you changed the font’s color to correspond with certain words. You described this slice of nature so poetically, and I think the flowers would appreciate being associated with such beautiful language.