I picked a twisted flower in
an unkempt garden.
I kept it for a while.
Without roots, the flower
didn\'t last. I barely did.
There were many
flowers in my younger days.
I loved picking them and
keeping
them close.
In the end, they
all died or blew away.
I felt empty, blood moon
sad.
Such a young fool in
those sizzling summer
nights.
Flowers make terrible
gods.