A field of flowers, brightly- colored, swaying
In the breeze, petals reaching toward the sun.
All together, blending in and oblivious, seemingly saying:
"With life so perfect and care- free, how could it be hated by anyone?"
One lone rose, in the middle; beautiful red,
But ravaged by sharp, painful thorns.
All alone, wanting to be as vibrant as the rest, but dying slowly instead,
Drooping down, never to be plucked and admired, left with her scorn.
"With blossoms as radiant as those around me,
I'm doomed to be left here, ignored and forgotten."
The rose weeped what she knew was sad but tragically true words, in this sea
Of what was the opposite of her, happy and glorious, as inside out she became rotten.
The rose looked without seeing how the others had imperfections; none were the best.
Slowly, her unnoticed petals turned black, and she faded, like all the rest.
~Morgan3509
***Note: I was given ten minutes in ELA and was told to write a sonnet. This resulted. Also, can anyone figure out what everything is symbolic for? I'd love to hear from you!
