Trampled Beauty

You are the lonely petal
The petal that floats to the ground
You are the gentle push of wind that carries the petal to a better place
The wind that does as it pleases
You are the innocent child finding amusement in the petal, and then brushing it aside
The child who prefers to play outdoors, trapped inside by the unexpected storm
You are the strong liquid that sticks to the petal
The liquid composed of a mixture, made from scratch
You are the rose, trampled on the ground
The rose, whose petals, whether thriving or trampled, make the same smell in potpourri