But I still think you are the prettiest flower in the bed.
Even with your petals brown, and some on the ground.
I still believe you smell the sweetest.
At the end of the day, we're all blind fools anyway.
I'd pick you again, every time.
If I had to do it all over,
I'd choose you.
*My beautiful, your season has passed.
Your life was bright, but far too fast.