A patch of the garden beautifully blossomed, the other side there were none,
Playful children found a liking in the flowers, all plucked but one.
From the one flower the gardener fabulously flattered,
All the rest willfully not watered.
The distracted daffodils fail to see,
How the gardener waters his flower with glee,
He would look at each petal, not let a bee linger around,
The precious nectar of his precious flower never supposed to be found.
One day the gardener felt the flower needed more space,
He then wiped out all the other flowers from the garden's face.
He watered his flower, forgetting to drink some himself,
All the letters sent by his mother never got off of the shelf.
The flower he watered and watered, he sat there and he dreamt,
never did he get back the time and the garden that he lent.
Day and night he guarded it with all his might,
It mattered not if it was a scorching day or a freezing night.
Days went by and the gardener love turned into madness
He could see the flower lose its bloom, he sunk into sadness.
No flower stays bloomed forever,
At least we got to water them, better less than never...
The gardener believed the flower would never die,
He had made it his whole world, he thought the world was a lie.
All those moments had become memories, all that he cherished,
Lying beside a lifeless flower, lifeless he perished.
The flower was just like the others, but he had made it special,
He cut the rest of the flowers, so he could see its every petal.
Don't blame him, the flame of love blinds all,
The fire will go out one day, the painful smoke binds all...
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