Oh so dainty, the flower left.
Uprooting herself from her soil.
For she was seeing others, better or worse than me.
I knew of course, but it had to end.
For our agreement shouldn't let her love extend
To those I not know of
And so I pulled her stem up.
Attempting my best to remove her, as she truly was a form of weed, stopping other flowers from growing.
But alas, I had not the heart
But alas, I damaged her with my efforts
And so, with a damaged stem, the scar nearing the root,
She left.
And now, she'll be more than my color
And now, she'll be her own.
Lovely, she'll be
If only I could see
But I'll never see her again
