The
flowers blossom in the garden, unaware of what future holds. Some are picked, commercialized and delivered as desired.
Fulfilling human wishes to their best…
The moment of happiness is not forever and so is their life. The fate of the dried flowers is never
known. They might be thrown away heartlessly somewhere or…
may be preserved to be cherished forever!
Unconvinced and unsure of what the future holds...
In that garden far away my story unfolds...
I grow, I blossom until I am made a souvenir...
In their hands I dwell and in their smiles sincere.
I ain’t no eternal, I wither, vanish and descend...
Some hurl me out in filth to die, others preserve me without end!
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