​The city lost in love or simply sold to consumerism
Is as heartfelt as each petal slowly curling to a drooped fall
These flowers mean love like blue means cold
We want them because it's what we're told
And he buys them because he'll lose lust tonight otherwise
Yes one day they might together grow old
But not because of today this gesture given
The gift that conforms is not so bold
No strength built in surrender to society
Trust not earned in prompted acts of endearance
And respect for independence is gone
For a life lived by public calendar is not yours
So whose thoughts do those roses hold?