Seconds beget minutes; minutes long after hours and hours turn to days yet I am but a blemish in your day. Not noticed, not spotted in spite of my outstretched arms.
I seek for your attention but I am the last of my kind to get named. I yearn to be picked out, to be part of the bunch that graces your ever so beautiful garden. Yet you limit me to the wild, to shady damp areas and along abandoned streams.
You mock me and say I am a symbol of true love, yet my petals are left to be nurtured by nature instead of being wetted with the cool clean water that flows in your garden fountain.
You wonder why am blue, did it occur to you that perhaps the unseen tears that I weep in me every night is the cause of my pigmentation? Or you believe it is just another natural occurrence, to please your selfish desires.
Please stop, please turnaround and please take a closer look and try to Forget-me-not
