It didn't happen overnight.
Or, rather, it did.
All the same, something...
Changed, we'll say.
Nature took its course,
But I brought it upon myself.
Neglect is not as passive
As many so think.
A decision must be made
For something to suffer
While another flourishes.
Someone must make a choice.
I chose not to water my flower,
So my flower did wilt.
I hid its leaves in shadow
So they shriveled and died.
Even as I drowned a limp flower,
And then baked its dead leaves in
Vain sunshine and curses of regret,
A fool I thought myself not.
Einstein's definition of insanity,
I, its damned epitome,
Beating a dead flower
With hopes it would revive.
So, I am no gardener.
No botany on my resume.
For I do not care for the beauty
I claim to hold so dear.
I have no regard for that
Which should mean the most to me.
I make my choices.
I let flowers die.
No...
You see, again,
That's far too passive.
I kill flowers.
