Crocus Fructos

a poem; try to figure out for yourself whose perspective it's from

you thrive underneath the sun,

surrounded by your kind

and admired by others;

a young thing, bright and vibrant,

high above the loamy soils.

all is taken when you are taken away,

raped by the stained hands of an invader.

you learn what it is to be sold and bought,

touched, eyed, and used;

no happiness remains

once you are empty,

discarded and left to rot.

your skin is undesirable to all

save the animals and pests

of the world,

feasting on your flesh.

you lay forgotten and insignificant,

the fruit of a dying world.