Through the checkered meadow,
Our eyes met alas,
Your hair brazing through the rash wind that warped around us and passed,
Your hands wrapped tightly around my neck as I cry out with woe.

Plucking my petals,
You whispered your desires and longings for blissfulness from others,
But you never uttered my name, nor mentioned what smothers,
You so, Though your actions say what I am to you and settles.

My love for you is as much as I depend on you and know,
Although I’m not willing to let go,
But you continue to hurt me, Then I’ll do what any flower will do,
And grow.