Flowers may bloom ,
Whenever they choose ,
But never so soon ,
For it may lose ,
Its true beauty in June .
You and i are flowers ,
Blooming to whenever we choose ,
You bloomed so soon ,
You lost your colours,
Way back in June.
I bloomed as much as you did,
But my colours were never lost ,
As you you hid ,
In shame of your lost .
Every few months ,
Youd bloom once again ,
As you were called a skunk,
For your lack of gain .
You continued to bloom ,
With your lack of hue .
Soon came the end of your dearly hue ,
As your petals continue to fall,
In the midst of blue .
8th March 23
