The Last One

I've lived longer than the rest of them; I am the only one left. Still waiting for some more to come and give me company. Yet I look so beautiful all alone, sometimes I am happy all of the flowers are all gone so I look original and no other flower can make me look just like them. I really don’t mind being the last flower living in the flowerbed, yet sometimes I wish there was another. But not the same type of flower as me, a different one so we have uniqueness to the garden. Someday, someday I just hope I will have another flower stand up next to me.

Oh look now, the gardener has brought a few flowers. Luckily none of them look like

me. I am a sunflower. The other ones are daisies. This means I will stand taller than the rest and be unique, unlike the short daisies. There is just one thing that I am scared of, being clipped and dying just like the rest of them. Or not getting enough water to survive. I just hope that doesn’t happen to me. I want to live longer; I want to be admired by the people who walk past the garden. That is all a flower really ever asks for. People just don’t understand the role a flower plays. We want to be admired by everyone. Yes we understand cutting us and giving us to someone makes them happy, but it doesn’t make us happy. Well it does, just it hurts and we become dead after a while of not being in the ground.

Furthermore, I am just happy to have not been cut off of my stem. I would like to give more and more people the enjoyment of looking at me and admiring my height and beauty. Oh look, some children are coming. And there goes one of the daisies. Poor daisy, it was only buried in the ground for such a short amount of time. But that is how it does. And soon, I might end up being the single flower in the garden again.