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.