Fading Brightness

A sunflower bows like a tired child

against cracked concrete, petals curled and brown.

The rain left bruises on its bowed face,

and footprints marred the dirt beneath.

No one stopped to cradle the broken stem,

or brush the mud away from its failing gold.

Its head dips lower—ashamed, I think—

as if it knew the sun had turned away.

A once-bright beacon, now pressed to earth,

forgotten like a promise too long ignored,

waiting for a hand to lift it up again,

or just the mercy to look once more.