the garden

i was the flower

you were in search of nectar.

i carried a sign that said devour

you saw me as a garbage collector.

how the thorns turn you off

but they are integral to my being.

when i wilted my leaves grew soft

you only measured me by seeing.

next spring i shall bloom again

will i be worthy of your pollination

or will you see me as dirt in the end

impatient for my gardens proliferation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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