Sad, sad
Was the
living Orchid
Next to
her twin made of silk
They
looked much alike, one wouldn't tell the difference
At first
glance
Side by
side, they were placed, adorning the corridor of a maternity ward
She had petals
white as milk with a purple shade
She had a
green core and yellowing blades
She had a
bent spine and a few bare twigs
And her
scent and charm have started to fade
Over the
month of November
Since no
one looked her way any more
And she's
forgotten how to be beautiful
Next to
her peer of plastic flush
Forever flourishing
Forever abiding
Forever
pretty
Forever
lush
When the
lights go off she whispers to her sister
And when
the silence prolongs, she opts to pester
"I
may not smell nice but you don't smell at all."
"My
flowers may fall but you are cold as ice."
When it's
time to rebloom, she casts a glance of gloom
At her
immortal ilk
Only
matched in glory when you look from a distance
Hominid jealousy
against indolent indifference
And sad,
sad,
Was the
dying Orchid
Next to
her twin made of silk.
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