Cultivated, trimmed, nourished
I vainglorious, flaunting my divine fragrance,
I have heard from my brothers their experience,

We, the medium for humans to interact with their creator,
Ornate their homes whenever something auspicious occurs,
Their token of love for each other,

No wonder they call us king of flowers,
Regal is definitely my aura,
Thanks to my ancestors,

I felt pity for other members of my brethren,
One day a strange phenomena happened,
When a stranger came to our garden,

It was some wildflower from unknown descent,
Gave me strange looks when our eyes met,
I consoled him to not be intimidated by my magnificence,

Hearing that he mockingly started laughing in bewilderment,
What an uncultured wild prick, I thought in that instant,
But what he said next was my road to enlightenment,

A bird grown up in a gilded cage,
Controlled, abused, source of man's entertainment,
You are plucked by them constantly,
And the other one that takes your place,

Grows up with this dumbfounded self-importance,
Do you know when they are done with you,
They throw you along with their trash,
You are not something magnificent,
I pity your ignorant existence,

My whole world shattered,
It was a revelation,
But as I began contemplating,
It was the season of autumn,
Like leaves wilt away,
It was the time for my petals to wither,
A rude awakening I had got,
But I could still spare my brethren the pain,
I didn't want them to suffer...
© paradoxicalpenman