Flowers

The flowers bloom, pink and red

In my room, near my bed

They consume my heart, my head

For I have a duty, a task

To keep the buds alive

To allow them to thrive

It’s such a simple ask

One you might wish you

Had; there’s just one issue:

I hate flowers

The velvet petals clustering

Take more patience than I can muster

The soft stagnant scent frustrates me

I loathe flowers

The maintenance and care

They need, the water and the air,

The seed are more than I can bear

I scorn flowers

Their airs of grace and elegance 

And their rendered relevance

Awash against the elements

I shun flowers

They stand for love and beauties

All there just to tease

The way they add my duties 

I spurn flowers

The romance and the care they bring

It sickens me to hear folks sing 

Of how they improve everything

I curse flowers

The red or pale white nectar

Excreted from this sector

Shows me the deathly specter 

Flowers I abhor, despise

Can’t tolerate them or their lies

I contemn them and condemn them

Disdain to rearrange them

Can’t you see 

I’d prefer a tree?