He was going to get her a little plant,
and would be teensy-tiny and green
and the little plant would never die.
He would name it "Neville",
and she would giggle at the name
and the little plant would never die.
He would find her a little cactus,
or an aloe plant that had no spikes
(so she wouldn't ***** her fingers),
and the little plant would never die.
He would remind her to water it,
and she would tell him she forgot,
and it was a good thing he reminded her,
and the little plant would never die.
He would go over and visit it,
and he would visit her while he was at it,
and the little plant would never die.
He would bring her books about plants,
so she would know all about hers,
and the little plant would never die.
He would sing the plant little songs
when he visited the plant and her,
and she would like those little songs,
and the little plant would never die.
He would whisper I love you
to the plant, of course,
but she would hear it,
and the little plant would never die.
He would hear her say it too,
and he would understand,
and the little plant would never die.
But he did not get her a little plant.
The little plant would never die,
but she was not a little plant.
I don't mean for the title to be so cliché, but at the same time, I do. Clichés happen.