This poem is sort of a true story - the flower is a metaphor for fake friends. I've had a few (haven't we all?) and I thought the plastic flower analogy would be a great way to channel emotion into this poem. The caring for it is trying your best to fit in - but honestly, if you can't be yourself around them, it's not likely to last very long. If you read my poems, try and click the green flag before you read them - that's the only way they can get views and I'd love to see how many of you read my work! Please, can more experienced poets give me feedback? Thank you and enjoy Deception... the poem, not the real thing. Poem Number Six!
A smile crept onto my face As my fingers gripped onto the clear glass. I'd spent ages trying, Working up the money To buy myself a lovely new Flower. The sweet perfume, The gorgeous petals, The glowing radiation it gives off, Surely this is the right one for me? I add water at all the right points in the day, Place it on just the right spot on my windowsill, Check it more than I have to, To make sure my lovely flower Stays alive and blooming. And my care keeps it going for six months. All is still well. Until one day, As I tip the watering can, I notice something. A loose thread. And elsewhere, A fraying edge of a warm yellow petal. A fake. A decoy. A trap, In which to capture my heart, My attention, My care. But was any of it needed? The endless hours Preserving a plant with no life? No actual need for sustenance? Tears make my vision blurry, I drop the watering can, And with it, I release the hope I once had. That flower. I didn't think it was capable Of such blatant, Cruel, Deception.
