Broken Flowers

there love among the flowers

but some are deadly,

looks can be deceiving

and toxic a plenty

but who wouldn't pluck the flower

if appealing to us,

some would prefer a bouquet

when one is enough

we venture through the fields

no matter how high,

eyes fixated on that one

particular prize

sometimes, these flowers wither

by one simple touch,

or the petals begin to fall

transitioned seasons and such

delicate they are

and as precious as can be,

but taken advantage of

for a selfish retreat

that flower we search for

is out there for you,

it depends if the flower

is willing to accept you

But these,

Broken flowers in the garden

Not a single one stood

Nor a vase capable

To hold the flowers for good

Though the flowers that were broken

Never lost sight of their beauty

Until the flowers laid to rest

No longer settled for scrutiny

By the weeds that had pestered

Repulsive and rugged

Made the flowers lose their bloom

And the will to reach for the summit

Sapped of its nutrients daily

It need to solely survive

The weeds grew in abundance

It didnt care if they died

Other flowers just cried

Consoled by the rain

No other flowers in the garden

Ever knew of their pain

Mostly days were the same

But the flowers commitment

To remain blissful and radiant

Disregarding the wishes

Of the weeds

Which it cajole

The flowers with flattery

Drunk off the pesticides

Resort to assault and battery

To the weeds

All a jest

Never took it too serious

Telling the other flowers that

This one is fucking delirious

Now these flowers have thorns

They didn't care who they pricked

They became too accustomed

To being called a bitch

With that, became content

With the illiterate sense

The weeds just concurred

While they themselves

Reveled in shit