Blossoming Words

My Mother

Oh sweet child you are strength, you are loved by the most high

You are intense, you aren't something they can just buy.

You are beautiful,

you are delightful

There is no quick healing factor,

wishing it'll be crushed by tractors

but it leaves you with a reminder:

When you go places make it a little better than when you found it

because growing up doesn't have to be

so damn gray.