A flower poem.

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You see; I collect flowers.

Every spring I do the same exact thing.

I don't put them to use.

I don't put them to show,

Or to wear them in my hair.

I don't have anyone special to whom

I should give them to.

I just have myself.

I spare them the misery

For not having to

put them in the eyes of

Society.

And for them to say they want my

flowers

And only to desire them for selfish

needs.

And only for desire.

The beauty is priceless

I just put them in a box for only me

to see.

Hiding them from the cold season.

The beauty is to precious to have

someone see.

You see these flowers are for me.

(a.k)

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 09, 2014 ⏰

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