I knew I should have left it
alone where it grew.

The lily is wilting
it quivers and shakes.
My selfish hands have killed it
waiting for another to take its place.

The orchid has gone sour
its petals ooze a poison.

It grew so far away I thought
another would surely tend it.
Oh how I was wrong,
now I'll sit here trying to mend it.

It seems I'm a selfish gardener
and though I wish it not so,
I know that I have damaged
what I wished to grow.

From the flowers that I hoped to till,
it's punishment that none will be
the flower, in my vase, on my window sill.