You can
lift me to the sky
or pummel me down to the earth

You can
make this woman a queen
or rob her of her mirth

You can
turn my juice to honey
or leave the well void

You can
create a utopia
or have my world destroyed

You can
if you desire to

My future is up to you

He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay

The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris

The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more

But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.