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i don't want to be a flower

do not cut me by my stem
and pull me up from my land
breaking my connection;
the roots i grew up from

or pull the petals of my pollened centre
for your careless i dos
your uncertain i don'ts
and throw them away to rot

my nectar is not to be stolen
and made into honey
that you will one day take for granted
on your piece of morning toast

and my beauty
wasn't made for admiration
but it is the way i am created
do not steal it away with your
consumer mind

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