My Blue Flower

I see her,
oh, how I see her.
In a field of thorn filled roses,
she breaks out, she stands out.
The wind pressures her to hide,
the sun asks her to stand strong.
Being surrounded by fake flowers,
she feels compelled to be compared.
My blue flower glows bright,
even while hit with the darkest rain.
Brushed with the surrounding pollen,
she resists turning to the roses.
Petals now bruised with blush,
unable to appreciate her reflection.
Waiting for the morning dew,
removing red and turning blue.
My precious Violet smiles again,
she is, who she is meant to be.
I lend my hand from far away,
my blades of grass swear an oath.
If I can't protect your heart,
I promise to surround it.