Torn

I was a flower
with a strong stem and thorns.
I never broke against wind or rain.
I was fierce and smart,
and survival was my main skill.
But, then came a foreign season.
It was warm and cold,
and had the most captivating landscape
but also the most treacherous skies.
I was careful and curious,
but I was plucked of my innocence.
The foreign season remained neutral 
until it was greedy for more.
I was then plucked of function,
and remained torn.
I was a flower,
with a strong stem and thorns.”
- A x