What Lies
What lies.
What lies
Among beds of roses
The promises of spring
The ever-fragrant highs
What sighs
When its stems are clipped
Dropped into a vase
Far from azure skies
will it try
Wo shamelessly adorn
Bouquets, wilted petals stripped
Trimmed of dreaded thorns
Will it cry
Because it lack the worth
The beauty it once held
When it was bedded in the earth
Will it die
Forced unnaturally to graph
The flower in the urn may smile
But it will never laugh
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