Ernesto P. Santiago Poet Free verse

At a Florist Shop

I’m standing here at a florist shop,
For couples of minutes now, thinking
Which of these flowers I’ll choose;
Just for you, as a gift on our first year;
I have no idea, which one to pick;
They’re all fresh, pure and beautiful---
A labor of god’s gardener--- his pride;
But, when I saw you on the other side,
Of the street, with my best friend;
French kissing him, as he holds your butt;
Then, every one passing sees that you’re
A perfect couple, with pure loving;
Never letting go of this so-called love;
Ah, you ne’er thought that I’ll be seeing you;
My long silence has broken by the florist, 
“Sir, have you picked one!?”
With low voice, almost unheard, I said:
“No, I change my mind…, thank you!"
Right at this moment I know, you worth not 
Of any of these flowers, ‘cos you’re different;
Neither, you worth a cent of my loving hands.

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