Flowers

My last blogs were rather... sad. I had a rough patch in my life, but it was nothing more than that. it was like an infection, polluting my bloodstream, and dulling the light in my skin. You can assume it was over a boy, that's all he'll ever be. A boy, with nothing more to offer than dumb tricks and empty promises. That same boy is revving in his own solitude, surrounded by the same pollution I escaped from. No one pulls him out; no one cares to stop the downfall. But, while he drowns, I swim. 

For I met a man, a REAL man. Not a boy that hides behind the word itself. But what defines a man? How are the two terms similar, yet so different? 

A man doesn't allow his flower to wither and die. A man can appreciate the true beauty his flower holds, watching it blossom, watching it grow, watching it thrive... A man wouldn't let his flower go without water, pouring love, pouring ideas, and pouring kindness with each drop. A man would notice when a petal falls or rips, when the stems no longer look green, and when the roots begin to rot. 

Now... 

A boy would enjoy his flower for a while... Admiring the beauty, admiring the color, admiring the smell. But the second the petals start to wither, or the stems start to change its color, he throws it away. A boy wouldn't take the time to replant, regrow, or rekindle. That takes too much effort in his eyes. A boy would crumble his dying flower between the sweat of his fingers and the creases of his knuckles. A boy would drown his flower, pouring too much water or perhaps not enough. For a flower can only handle so much before it gives in to it's environment, unable to escape or break away. 

Do you see it now..? The difference between a man and a boy.