I am pretty, of course!
My friends water me with the watering hose,
I tickle their nostrils with my smell,
That's what I hear them tell...
I bloom in vivid colours,
I am the gesture of lovers,
And though I'm planted
They take me for granted...
But be careful, I have thorns!
You may end up,making loud moans...
In the end, when I wither
You throw me away, with the litter.
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I wrote this during the Lit-Wit club activity in my college.
It happens when the inner creative monster comes outside ...
