Like a freshly planted seed, I have bloomed.

My roots strengthened, my stalk firm.

I have felt the warmth of moist, sunlit soil.

A lot can change in eight months.

The seasons, the wind, the time,

I too have changed.

The plant I thought to be decaying,

I misjudged it, misjudged myself.

For I had only experienced the rain.

My eyes are brown chrysanthemums.

Doe shaped, bold, captivating, and warm.

I am still learning to let myself sway in the breeze.

Not so long ago, I was overwatering myself.

Never letting there be a chance of sunshine.

I have been through so much, sometimes it gets me down.

However, I have chosen to keep the seed once presumed defective.

I learned how to revive the almost-dead, and I am a new farmer.

I am proud of how I've been growing, I will continue to thrive.