WE ARE ETERNAL FLOWERS,
THAT NEVER WILT OR DIE,
OUR COLORS FADE A LITTLE,
WHEN OUR OFFSPRING HURT OR CRY.
BUT THEY, LIKE US, ARE ETERNAL,
AND WILL NEVER REALLY DIE,
THEY, LIKE US, ONLY FEEL THE PAIN,
AS WINTER PASSES BY.
WE LIVE OUR LIVES IN SOLITUDE,
AMONGST THE STRANGLING WEEDS,
FOREVER STRIVING IN DESPERATION,
SPEWING FORTH OUR SEEDS.
AND THEN WE FINALLY REALIZE,
OUR YOUNG CAN STAND ALONE,
THESE BUDS TO BLOOM AND BLOSSOM,
TO MAKE THEMSELVES A HOME.
ONE DAY IN COMES THE "GARDENER,"
AND THINS US FROM THE REST,
AND PLANTS US IN "HIS" GARDEN,
WHERE ONLY GROWS THE BEST.
NOW WE START ALL OVER...
BUT THEN... YOU KNOW THE REST.