The toxicity of lilies has been pronounced,

Deathly infection, base venom 

Pulsing through the lily-white skin

Filling beautiful people to the brim. 

But it was you who once wrote

Of direst cruelty

And it is with this I charge Mother Nature.

My dandelion, pus yellow

Scruffy, torn, forlorn in a farcical bed of beauty

Wondering why weeds are forced to struggle, aggressively flourish

Amongst the belles of the ball? 

Wondering why even in numbers we bow, flaccid, to teenage princes

Blossoming early, coming prematurely? 

I charge Mother with her indirect insults as she paints us in thistle bruises, jaundice and grey.

With her attention to the pollen tips blushing with poison

I charge Mother with her decision to fool us with a toxic facade

Easy to spot, fast to fade but

Repetitive and relentless, year on year. 
The toxicity of lilies has been pronounced,

Yet we remain the same entangled in each other’s superficial soil and tendrils,

The only solace we weeds are left

Is how our roots grow deeper

And seek to choke the ones with the lily white spores. 

Day 16 – Write a response to the poem you posted yesterday.

This is a response to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 94.