We all just wanna be tended to; us
women of the foliage want to be gushed over, not just because
we're pretty and smell nice--
no, we want stone-cold attention.
Us Foliage Women NEED fresh air
and sunshine; we don't need no
shade, no, no, no.
We come back year after year. You
don't want those fake flowers
you can buy at Micheal's.

We are all quietly pulsating with
life, our leaves rustling in the wind.
We smile sweetly at the sun because
we know it's our only sense of life.
Gardeners aren't that reliable,
you see. They think you're really
pretty at first, with your colorful
petals and such, but then the
gardeners realize that they have
to get their hands *****; they have
to uproot the past to move you
to a sunnier spot.

But, no. The gardeners forget to
water the Foliage Women; they forget to
let the Foliage Women into the sunlight.

Then they wonder...they wonder why the
women of foliage are completely wilted,
shriveled, gasping for air.
They relied completely on the gardeners.

The Women of the Foliage can stand
tall, alone, yet together.
We can tend to each other.
Gardeners are unnecessary, anyway.
We'll bend in the breeze,
and whisper in the wind,
together.

**~~a.s.f.