When I was younger my grandma would keep a jar of rose water in the kitchen

They were pretty

Sat there in bright sunlight

Smelling sweet

Though after a while trapped in that jar

The petals would would mould

And their beauty and sweet smell would be gone

And we would take them from the sunlight

And throw them away into the dark

She would grow roses in the back garden too

They were beautiful

In full sunlight

With pink and white petals

Though after a while the petals would die

And their beautiful pink and white petals would shrivel up

And we would cut them from the sunlight

And throw them into the dark

She would raise me on her own

I was beautiful

In full sunlight

In my pink and white dress

Though after a while i would rot and die like those rose petals

And she would cut me from the sunlight

And throw me into the dark

author’s note:

this poem is about neglecting/abusing a child/grandchild due to them struggling with mental health.