I was going to add context, but felt like that would be defeating the point. If I have to spell it out then what was the point of writing the poem in the first place. At the end of the day you’ll read, and either have a reaction or not. Artificially facilitating that is unfair of me.
You bloom without warning.
Without a shred of hesitation you scatter your petals through my garden like a bright yellow wildfire,
Choking the fields of vapid flowers that reside there.
Onlookers question why I let you proliferate unhindered,
Why I let my garden be overtaken by your twisting roots and tattered leaves.
The answer is simple really,
I like the view.
I like your nonsensical arrangement,
The way you draw the eye despite being surrounded by conventional beauty,
How even as your bright persona fades away,
And your true nature of melancholy white takes center stage,
You simply glow more radiantly.
I like it all really,
Even when I know how it ends.
You’ll leave without saying goodbye.
I’ll look up and there you’ll be,
Looking lackadaisical as you drift through the sky.
The flowers leftover will be whispering maliciously as I pay them no mind,
Out of jealousy that I don’t love them as much as the empty stems you leave behind.