If I was a stem of the flower I would keep stretching
I know I have only two colors green or brown
It is not like I am not carrying the weight
Of the body and head and leafs and so forth
This is what makes me a flower
Once in a while I get thirsty so I get watered
Then other days I get droopy and I shut my eyes
Then on hot days I get wilted
Then when I get cold I hide for a season or two
When the sun comes out I am happy
Seeing the skies so blue I am calm
As the sky turns gray my scent is in the wind….
Thus I be the flower you pick