The flower will never bloom as it was supposed to,
Many petals were ripped off, necter sucked out.
Repeatedly stomped on, picked and moved.
Controlled, and wilting.
The flowers amongst itself are all perfectly watered,
All petals evolved. Perfectly in tact.
The roots feel the need to give out,
But something tells them to keep holding on.
The next time you wonder why i have not grown right,
Remember you were the one who tore off the petals,
Picked me off the roots, and tried to plant me again.
