My flower

I was looking at a pretty flower,
thinking of the stem all tilted,
it only had the shortest life,
now it's all dead and wilted,

The smell it gave was beautiful,
in the early morning sun,
it was amazing and standing tall,
when each day had just begun,

It's petals were shiny and very red,
I't floated about in the breeze,
the flower was making it's honey,
for all of the hungriest bees,

I thought I had to throw it away,
for it's job here was now done,
but when my back was turned,
It was alive, pointing to the sun.

Copyright 2005 - Amanda Linzi

I really don't know why I wrote this
poem because i am a still drunk and writing about random things. Please comment though as I would really appreciate it. Thanks :)