spring

Withered, and dead,

But do not fret, for spring is near!Oh! Your beauty now shines through,As you bloom again.
Petals, and colors,How underappreciated you are,Amidst normalcy and routine,You are never given a second glance.
The sweetness that you have,The freshness that you bring,All taken for granted,Made invisible by the sound of birds singing. 
But now, Through these eyes,Art is all I see,The vibrance that you bring,And the thanksgiving that comes with it.