Maybe it was protected,
By the defence mechanism it had devised.
Or maybe it wasn’t protected,
And just grew ill advised.
Every time the train thunders past,
It wilts with all it’s might
It’s not surrender, it’s not defeat,
This is just how it knows to fight.
Did the train and the tracks,
Rattle up it’s insides?
And did the generated gust of wind,
Drown it in it’s tides?
Don’t wilt so much, stand your ground.
Said all the shrubs beside it
It said it’d try, but it never could.
It’s inherent nature denied it.
It’s a thing to wonder.
A conclusion I cannot reach.
Maybe that’s the thing to learn here.
That’s the thing to teach.
Does the mimosa keep wilting
For it is courage, that it lacks?
Or is it just the bravest thing in the world?
For growing by the tracks?
Genres: Life, Courage, Philosophy, Never-give-up, Hope, Uniqueness