Little silver raindrops,
Memories worth two life times,
Trickling from the past like a springtime shower.

A flower springs up,
Pink awareness nurtured by the rain,
Strong in stem and lovely in shade.

A brave red fighter,
The solitary thorn stands guard,
Watching over the flower's tender heart,

Though thorn may fail and flower be plucked from the soil,
Cry not a tear for me.
Raindrops are forever and seeds grow again.

Yes, it has been a loooooong time since my last post and I know this poem isn't great, but forgive me. I've been busy and haven't been in much of a mood to write.