Plucked


A flower grew
From a tiny seed
In a garden
With all it would need.
And people walked by
To admire and praise
But never pluck it
For so many days.
The flower felt safe,
Never a worry or fright,
It kept growing beautiful
To the public's delight.
When it was at its peak,
Just about fully grown,
Someone yanked its roots
From the ground where it was sown.
The flower was shocked,
Confused and concerned.
It matured so perfectly,
Is this what it had earned?
The flower was left in a vase
To wither and die.
All it could do was wonder,
Why?

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