Beautiful Rose

The park bench was deserted
As I sat down to read
Beneath the weeping branches
Of an old willow tree
Disillusioned by life with good
Reason to frown
For the world was intent
On dragging me down

And as if to ruin my rare
Quiet day
A young boy approached me
all tired from play
He stood right before me
With his head tilted down
And said with excitement
!Look what I found!

In his hand was a flower and
What a pitifull sight
With its petals all faded from
No rain or light
Wanting him to go take his dead
Flower and go play
I faked a small smile and
Shifted away

But instead of retreading he
Sat at my side
And sniffed at the flower and
Declared with surprise
!It sure smells pretty and
Its beautiful to
Thats why i picked it
Here its for you!
The poor weed before me was
Dying or dead
No bright vibrant colors no
Yellow or red
But i knew i must take it or he
might Never leave
So i reached out my hand and
Said !Just what i need!

But instead of him placing
The flower in my hand
He held it in mid air with out
Reason or plan
It was then that i noticed for
the very first time
That weed toting boy could
Not see for he was blind

I heared my voice quiver tears
Like the sun
As i thank him for picking
The very best one
!Your welcome! he smiled
Then ran off to play
Unaware of the impact he
Had on my day

I sat there and wonderd
Howe he managed to see
A self pitting man beneath
An old tree
How did he know of my self
Indulged plight?
Perhaps in his heart
He had been blessed with true sight

Through the eyes of a blind
Child at last i could see
The problem was not with the
World it was me
And for all those times myself
Had been blind
I vowed to see beauty and
Appreciate whats mine

I held that wilted flower up
To my nose
And breathed in the fragrance
Of a beautiful rose
And smiled as the boy
Another weed in his hand
Went to change the life of an
Unsuspecting old man.