My mother says that we are like flowers.
Look at me
look at my colours so vibrant
how my fragrance so sweet
how I fill your eyes with beauty
and your soul with hope,
is what she says, my mother.
she says we are like flowers
perhaps one day a lover will look at us
and pick us to gift to another
that is the end for that flower
You see
the flower didn't know it would be picked
by a lover
the flower
up until that point
went with life, a nice cool breeze lets it
sway in its place. One day
the next some rain falls and washes the flower
then comes that one day
that unforeseen day
where the flower gets picked.
And that is the end for that flower.
Is what she says. My mother
Make your own conclusions. My mother let me make my own.