Sadness, the flower
If we were to put colour to sadness it would be a great lilac colour, maybe with streaks of blue and yellow with a hummingbird floating on top, in anticipation of the bitterness coming forth from the stems. Maybe it would be like a painting of an impending mist, or a sad song suspended in the air, frozen by time, only to be thawed by momentary flashes of brilliance that will turn all the seers blind. Sadness is a flower whose beauty can only be beheld by those lucky enough to have flown under its wings. To some it is the black rose, to others the daffodils. To some it is the invigorating smell of existence but to others carrion, a beautiful death. Sadness is the unfurling of the rare flower that permits one to see the redness of the petals and the blackness of its soft underbelly, that reminds us of life and its nuances, the little things that we ignore and the fickle things that we love. Maybe for some sadness is a gift. The soft petals of forever rain, the m...