A Flower Story

In a garden where various types of flowers bloom, there grew this peculiar little flower. A flower unlike other flowers that grows in the garden. A little flower that will never be seen by others as how flowers ought to be - pretty.

No higher than 5 centimeters, this little 6 petal flower has a different color to each of it's petals. Blue, red, green, yellow, orange and black petal make up this peculiar little flower.

So, amongst the pretty pink, bright yellow and cheerful orange, this little peculiar flower do stand out. In a bad kind of way.

Because it grew in a prejudiced environment, the other flowers feel justified to label this "abomination of a flower" as an ugly looking misfit, like how a dodo bird will never be acknowledged by other flying birds as being part of them, if you get what I meant. And visitors to the garden seem to reinforce that fact. No one admired the peculiar little flower. Not a single soul. In fact, most of them will either walk past the little peculiar flower, or throw a cursory glance at it before turning away with a look of disgust on their face.

But the little peculiar flower never stop believing. And it held on to that belief, no matter how tough the going is - other flowers get extra doses of delicious fertilizers to keep their color fresh. Some get extra douses of water to keep their leaves looking green and healthy. Yet the little peculiar flower only gets water from the morning dew and the occasional treats from passing birds. Life sure is tough for this little peculiar flower.

But it never stopped believing.

It never stop believing that it is the most beautiful flower in the garden. It never stop believing that it is a special flower - Because it is the only flower with 6 different colors for it's petals. It must be special.

Such is the spirit of this 6 petal flower. But how long can 'believe' last? Just how long?

In an environment that constantly erodes that believe - like how waves continuously pound on the rock to break it apart - it is only a matter of time before all that believe breaks away too.

You can never stop the pounding tide. Never.

And so, as the days went by, the little peculiar flower, devoid of proper nutrients, food and support, began to falter, wither and fade into obscurity.

Never to be seen. Never to be missed.

Time has stopped for this poor little peculiar flower that suffered much. But the world still go on...never to notice that another suffering soul has come to pass.