When Clara saw the above painting, she said, "Wait...I have a poem."
Here it is.
Blooming
by Clara
I was first looking,
Then leaning in for a sweet smell,
It captivated me,
It was growing on me
And then it happened
At first I didn't feel it.
I couldn't see
Blinded
Taken in by it
I tried to pull it off
But it was connected to me
The connection stronger than anything I felt
I touched my face to see what it was
Blooming
A blooming flower
With roots
In
Me...
