Please don't buy me flowers,

They will wilt and fall away.

Decorating the floor with pools of petals,

And pops of lilac and faded white to gray.

I'm staring at the floor now,

Where the flowers you bought lay.

Trying not to wonder if they symbolize our fate.

A quickly blooming love,

At a faster-declining rate.

A heart bought by nature,

Given out of love.

A friendship blossoms like a rose,

and shrivels like it's dried petals.

Polluting the floor with false sentiments and shallow comments.

I will gaze upon their beauty,

Keeping the fiction alive.

But will wonder to what end will you buy me flowers?

And if our love will survive?