Torns, Torns, That Hurt

A night shouted at me
It says, “Hey wake up”
T’was me of the breeziest night of all
I was sleeping

It didn’t bother
It was even louder
“Wake up, wake up, Torns!”
I couldn’t resist. I got up

Pretty. The moon was pretty
The wind, touched my leaves
I was small, tiny even
But everything there forced me out

I didn’t have a choice
I emerged out from the trunk
I hurt the flower, I could feel it
The flower event didn’t bloom yet

The entire flower felt me out
I could see they almost scream
But it was a dark-pitch night
What could happen if they voice out?

I was small but I could outnumber them
In a second, it wasn’t just me alone
Tens of my twins jumped out
Altogether grew and grew, hurting