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When we met, I loved you.

And when we grew, I lost you.

Because I loved you I thought highly of you.

I firmly believed you could do anything.

because to me, you were a flower.

Unfortunately, the world didn’t see what I did.

What they saw was a weed.

Every time you grew they ripped you.

A putty heart to be pulled to its furthest stretch.

Your heart was so worn that the belief you could 

be anything more felt like an attack.

“Why would you say that?”

“You just think you’re better than me.”

“Stop pushing me!”

And eventually, I became your weed.

As I grew and admired your beauty,

the world picked your every last petal

instead of placing you in a vase.

And like a weed, I was pulled away.

I loved you like a flower,

but flowers need green thumbs

and all I had was a red heart.

And a red heart isn’t always enough,

but it shouldn’t stop you from gardening.

Whether a rose or a daisy,

we need to nourish each other.

Please don’t be mad if one of us blossoms sooner

and the other not soon enough.

Because with love and patience, 

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I think we’d make a beautiful bouquet.

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