It's amazing how a single flower could mean so much.

I don't know,  maybe she's just that shallow.
Kalachuchi was just as ordinary as her,
not until she received his first flower.

She kept a notebook only for those.
Every pages well versed with a side note,
stating the date and a mad love quote.

And as each flower wilted,
every memory of them she knitted.
Side to side, ring to ring, there, she made it.

Never ever will be forgotten.
Never ever will she bargain.
Each of those were all special,

Because for her, his love lies on every petals.