Flowers: Common, Exotic

A man sits next to a flower

The flower sighs

And lives

With the man next to it

For many a year

With the thought ever growing on him

That it is a common flower

.

Word comes

That a new flower

A dancing flower

An exotic flower

Is coming to town

It spreads like a fog

And when the fog hits the man

And when it clears

The “common” flower

Is left alone on the bench

.

In the distance

This flower

See’s that man

Hair slicked back

Practically running to the rooted flower

Trying to reach it first

And gawk at it like the others

.

He squats next to its spot

In the soft grass

And croons

What a beautiful creature it is

“Much Better” then the common flowers

Like that one on the bench

.

The flower sighs

And the man builds a bench

So he can watch it grow

And live

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