As You Walk Down The Yellow Brick Road

Her flowers only smell as sweet
as the plastic compost from which they grew.
And they bloom in perfect tandem
with the echoing garbage truck concerto.
Forced into bloom
to bring beauty to a wasteland.
Planted to be ruined
beneath a sky what would envy the bluest eyed girls.
And she cries in isolation;
tears pepper the razorblades, congregating at her feet.
The whole world shudders in the wind
with a chill not so acquainted with the season.
She hasn’t learned the tricks
of toughening herself to the world.
Her body soft and breakable,
but she’ll come back again.

for the cherry blossom tree at my school