She stood tall, she stood proud. She stood for many things without having to speak loud.
She had color, she had poise. She stared down the sun and silenced the rain's noise.
From the window, she watched. Pedals strewn across her top. a few ice cubes when she got hot.
She rose from the dirt, disfigured and distorted. She spread her resiliance into a beautufil orchid.
Then time's grew tough, she was getting pale, an extention of her thirst, the colors they all failed.
broken limbs, crumbled leaves. she gasped for air, she couldnt breathe, no one was there but the tumbleweed.
Her frail form couldnt hold. she hunched in pain...she fell slow.
Under the sun, beneath the showers, she left a taste but never sour.
She was Deloras, and she was a flower.
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