The other flowers have blossomed
When will I?
Will my turn even come?
Or will I just fade, never more than a simple bud
They are bright and luscious with their arms outstretched joyously
And I wait
I wait and hope that when it is my turn
If I get a turn
As a late lily
That someone will smile
Because of the one last blossom
When the rest have long faded