The Flowers Have Eyes
My oh my,
The flowers have eyes.
A garden flourished with them,
Long thick lashes are their petals--
Light enters through their pupils.
They cry when it rains,
Yet they are silent.
For they have no lips to hint us,
A field of them gaze at our eyes.
Curiously wondering who we are.
Their stems are long optic nerves--
Mother Nature is observing us,
In my paradigm of flowers with eyes.
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