Novelty

Novelty.
This object.
Discussed...
As if devoid of feeling.
Blatant when shown disrespect.
Neglected like a weed.
But a flower this becomes.
Protected as it grows.
How it does it no one knows.
Reflecting no hints,
Of a torment separations felt...
That sent it grieving.
Obstacles met.
This object has no regrets.
It feels blessed,
To have survived!
No novelty is the life within,
That thrives.
And pioneers upon new horizons.
Brave and unafraid...
To be used as a preview to what comes.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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