In a poetry class, my professor challenged us to write a poem from the perspective of an object. I sat in my dorm room perplexed, I had no idea what to write about. The inspiration came when I looked upon the dying flowers on my roommate's desk and a poem was born. I looked at life from another eye and challenged the idea of what flowers are typically used for.

WILTED

By: Kelsey Hoffman

The sun rays burn upon me

Awakening the senses within

Calling me out of my humbled state

I grow with fear in the twinkling of your eyes

I am small compared to the world I behold

My sent carries for miles and miles

I am touched by the softness of your hands

Then plucked from the place I once knew

Darkness falls upon me

Your rough hands now clasping around my neck

The shimmering dress that you force around my body

Clear and restricting, pointless to me

I come to find the sun in a new place

Your curious hand now caressing my being

My breath shortens and I feel the oxygen leaving me

I have become a decoration for you to admire

A memento you thought was love

The water I now drink is poisoned

I am confined even more than I once was

My eyes no longer shimmer in the light

I have fallen like tears from the sky

I have aged more in a few hours than in an entire lifetime

You look with glossy eyes for my minutes are numbered

Your gentle hands cannot save the tortured

Wilted and dying

Nothing to stop the course of nature

I must bid you adieu

We flowers aren’t everlasting.