The first love of a red rose,
take its hand and find a thorn.
A Lilly-of-the-valley offers sweet comfort,
just don’t bite through it’s coat worn.
The creeping bellflower looks safe,
until it steals your progress as it’s born.
Now you’ve learned that flowers kill,
so isolation seems like the only life.
Now with a shift of thought
the love is dead,
leaving only strife
running through your head.
Then you find a Daisy,
innocent and harmless.
But the pains of yesterday
leave no more room for kindness.
So due to fear
you don’t rise above.
Returning to your life-
to the Death of Love.