Have you ever picked a flower
There it stood in the field
Lonely but strong,
alone in a green world
nothing seemed wrong.

When you pull it to you
separate it from the root
It looks so pretty
and smells so sweet
Its beauty no one can dispute

Then the pedals start to sag
Color begans to fade away
It not strong enough alone,
to stand in the cold light of day

You could have had it longer
If you had let it stay,
In the field of clover
Happy and gay