Flower pot

It started with a friendly hello, a few words of advice,

“Put your flower pot there, trim your hedge, it’ll look nice.”

Over the years the hints not followed

Grew into an anger, in which she wallowed.

Only seething words and strings of curses

Were doled out like pretty poetic verses.

None were spared, everyone got their share—

The neighbors next door, even her own heir.

She was consumed by her hatred, it robbed her soul,

Left alone in her state, anger took its toll.


By Hilkka Wiesner


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