The "Flower"

As the sun set, she blossomed.
The sun kissed her before dozing off for the night.
With the marbled sky as her backdrop, she began her twilight dance.
She was queen of the night.
Dancing across the moonlit floor,
She knew she was mesmerizing.
Her petals, like a bejeweled gown flowing as she moved, glittered with stars.
Her looks and grace make the others envious,
For none were as exquisite as she.
"In the morning, with dew glistening on my petals,
Perhaps I'll be picked by an admirer," she mused.
The thought sent a shiver down her stem.
The sun was waking now, waving to her from the horizon.
A single ray beamed like a spotlight surrounding her.
At that moment she waked from her dream,
The field now bursting with laughter at this lowly weed.
Her eyes dart about from this flower to that,
Still giggling as they are picked, honored.
Her blade flushed crimson, mortified.
Then an ominous shadow descends, stealing her spotlight.
Unnoticed, she is crushed.