A Succulent

Freedom of the Heart


I should have picked a ripe succulent,

to adorn my desk as a companion.

Its leaves are thick and of hearty heart,

a desert drizzle could tend to its roots.

I should have planned for my neglect.

Absent minded, a soft colorful visage

sullenly droops, as I think less of caring

and often too consumed for kindness.

With not enough time to sit in a window,

life’s unvented pain collects real slow,

from what can’t be reached up above,

and a water vase that is half a world away.

On the brink of lonely death, a friend

helped to mend my wound. Reminding

me to take the time, helping others grow,

so radiant color can collect on their leaves.

My choice, although seemingly careless,

made a far better person out of me.

To awareness’s end and loves expand,

a more daring to be caring, man I am.

Maybe I should…

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