Dahlia | Teen Ink


March 4, 2009
By Jack_Meriwether SILVER, Paulding, Ohio
Jack_Meriwether SILVER, Paulding, Ohio
8 articles 1 photo 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Let X equal the quantity of all quantities of X. Let X equal the cold. It is cold in December. The months of cold equal November through February. There are four months of cold, and four of heat, leaving four months of indeterminate temperature. In February it snows. In March the Lake is a lake of ice. In September the students come back and the bookstores are full. Let X equal the month of full bookstores. The number of books approaches infinity as the number of months of cold approaches four. I will never be as cold now as I will in the future. The future of cold is infinite. The future of heat is the future of cold. The bookstores are infinite and so are never full except in September...” -Proof, David Auburn

Inside this green towering flower
Is a bustling world of never-ending energy
Inside is a city that never sleeps,
There are people that are constantly coming and going,
Leaving and arriving.
There are large town meetings, and start precisely on the dot;
They are never late.
The world is a blinding kaleidoscopic merry-go-round
Of passion, a city that thrives on light.
Outside, Times Square is shamed that they cannot compete.
This effervescent village is deeply rooted in the earth,
Solidly clenched to its values.
The metropolitan stems are strong, giving the citizens security.
The hearty leaves and elegant petals
Provide for an exquisite distraction
From the breakneck highways and the infectious beat of passing pedestrians.
The energy released from the death of a star
Cannot match the highly-caffeinated
Industrious dance
Performed within the flower.
There are so many petals that lie of the stem,
These were created for a purpose,
They give the citizens a view of the outside world,
A world that lags in comparison,
That world which sees the city as an
Unassuming and beautiful plant.
One must only tear through the walls of the Dahlia
To be enriched by the sprightly manor of this town,
To become a regular metropolitan.

The author's comments:
For this poem I tried to imagine what it would be like to be inside that of an inanimate object, and also added a hint of fantasy.

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