The best flowers get picked first
The ones that made the whole garden glow,
Whose petals held the morning light,
Whose roots ran deeper than we'll ever know.
The ones we'd visit every chance we had,
That helped the smaller blooms to grow,
That weathered storms and shared their shade,
And made love something we could show.
Now there's an empty space that aches,
Where beauty stood so tall, so true
The garden feels the absence most
Of flowers that meant everything to you.
They say the best flowers get gathered home,
But oh, the colours that we miss
No other bloom will ever fill
The space left by a love like this.
Jan 20
Jan 20, 2026 at 4:45 AM UTC
The best flowers get picked first
The ones that made the whole garden glow,
Whose petals held the morning light,
Whose roots ran deeper than we'll ever know.
The ones we'd visit every chance we had,
That helped the smaller blooms to grow,
That weathered storms and shared their shade,
And made love something we could show.
Now there's an empty space that aches,
Where beauty stood so tall, so true
The garden feels the absence most
Of flowers that meant everything to you.
They say the best flowers get gathered home,
But oh, the colours that we miss
No other bloom will ever fill
The space left by a love like this.
I miss you every single day.
