What I’ve Become

I was once a tiny sprig,

Sprouting from the ground,

The beginning of something new,

Maybe beautiful, some day.

I was once a little bud,

Almost fully formed,

Half of what I will be soon,

Twice as much as what I was,

But I will be someday.

I was once a pretty flower,

Bending to the wind,

Obeying it’s every call and beckon,

Every little whim.

But now I am much less than that,

Dead petals on the ground,

I’m shriveled up and dying fast,

But don’t we all, someday?

I now know what I was,

And what I am now,

A flower, something pretty,

Now this is what I’ve become.

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