Nightshade

Tonight there is quiet

And peace in the solace

Of knowing tomorrow provides

Plentiful harvests of value

To blighted and meaningless lives

Awoken to half-empty purpose

To pour from a cup of concerns

Is like watering gardens with salt of the earth

Empathy blooms only nightshade it seems

If roses know not of their worth

But why do we covet these thorny expressions

Untouchable as they may be

What so possesses the florist's seed sowing

Such colorful flowers, bouquets to be sold

When all of them wither and die without knowing

The answer to why in this vase they grow old