Flowers By aldo kraas, www.PoetryPoem.com/poet11586 Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime
We look to give them as a form of endearment,
romance, friendship, congrats, grieving, I'm sorry's.
We see beautiful growing pieces of art; literally die from our grasp,
not so different from us, we grow up and from that moment we start to die.
Why watch something so breathless, so beautiful, so simple
killed for your selfish needs?
You want them to better yourself when really your a murderer;
something that cant be replicated destroyed, like me.
You picked me,
kept me to yourself,
leaving me to die.
I was your Daisy.
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