A sunflower went to a bouquet shop
Tried to buy a Garland of roses
Just to be worn around it’s head.
The sun got mad at the flower
For it’s atrocity and asked;
You yourself is a flower
Don’t you know that it hurts
When cut up to be born a bouquet.
The sunflower said;
I turned into one
When I started loving you,
You enslaved my head
Labeled me yours
And now I’m out trying to find stuff
To label as mine.
And I think that being a bouquet is better
Than being enslaved.
At least it dies in the hand of someone
Who appreciates love
As a symbol of love
With the knowledge that it was loved.
©8/4/19 The Rendezvous Club
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