Like roses are destined to dry,
I too deserve to be free
from expectations so mighty and high.

Like lilies will begin to wilt,
I too lay my palms open for another
sisterhood and kinship killed.

Like daisies are promised doom,
I too swear to grow everywhere
like mere and measly mushrooms.

Like carnations will clump and crumble,
I too let go of my rains and storms
and let it all out like a thunder’s rumble.