A Flower That Used To Bloom

• Naomi Uong, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2019

I collapsed on my bed,
As I covered my face with my hands
Staring at the ceiling.
And I cry, cry and cry!
“Who are you?” I thought.
Cold sweat appeared on my skin.
I stood up,
Crept out of my run-down house,
Weakly dragging my two legs to the dusty bench.
Dark hour of the night,
All alone.
The word ‘neglect’ crosses over my mind,
Over and over again!
Questions filling my mind.
I slowly fall asleep
Remembering that I was a flower who used to bloom.