By Hailey Jiang
When I bloom it is nothing short of a miracle.
You admire my blooming branches Picnic
under the graceful flowers
Capture the fleeting moment.
Yet, it is no coincidence
That I am your “weeping cherry”.
You never cared for who I am,
Only for what I can be,
For you’d rather
Dumplings than flowers.
Who am I if not
Beauty and life
Death and impermanence
our pride, your obsession,
Your weeping cherry
The one you love dearest
The one you fear the most,
For my death comes quick.
You awe over my life
And neglect to mention my death,
You admire my beauty
Only from afar,
You raise me up
Just to let me come crashing down.
I am everything to you
Until I rot, until I am nothing
But a curse on your children.
I am beautiful to you
For only a week
Before I am an omen
Of a life not lived.
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