How silly is the little flower to think that it has such a large impact on anyone's life. It's as if it says "I know I am just a flower and it's well past the hour but you picked me from the rest so I must be the best. So when I leave, don't forget me please."
But it's just a little flower that was chosen for no other reason than to bring a little bit of happiness. Yet the flower still speaks, "I don't understand what you understand but I know that I am not anything grand. But it was me that you chose. You watered me with the hose and I have grown to be old but now everything I feel is cold."
Poor little flower, how long have you been here? Shivering and shriviling. But bless your soul you still speak. "I know some time has passed since I saw you last. But I remember your sad smile and how you had to sit down for awhile. Your thin white hair has become flat and I no longer see you sit where you sat."
That small, old flower, drooped one last time. With one last sigh the flower picker spoke. "I'm sorry little flower it is well past my hour and you're as thin as my hair that has become so brittle without care. But don't you worry he is coming in a hurry and I will not forget you if you will forget-me-not, too."