Before you became flowers, you were a rough storm, a dark night, a lonely shell.
You were a sad book with no end.
You were an ocean that never calmed, tide never fell, waves never slowed.
You were a swing that swung lonely.
Your heart shone bright, a midnight moon.

And when you were grass, you let everyone play around on you.
You were a scary fall, but a not so scary landing.
You were a neon sign someone
was looking for.

A reminder that you are more than what society portrays you as.
A smile across someone's face.
A glass of thick honey, warm and sweet.
A shot of whiskey, burning going down.

And after the rain stops pounding down, like heavy punches from above, you grew, big and beautiful, like a new life,
a beautiful flower.