I Never Loved Flowers

I never loved flowers
How rose stems prick your finger
How they wither after spring
Yet one day my eyes came upon a broken lily by a stream
My gaze grew wide and a feeling grew inside
I’d make a garden for this lily and fix it over time
I lay two sticks as crutches which kept it safe at night
Yet when the morning sun arose, my lily had withered and died
So tragic is my garden where flowers never grow

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