A purple hydrangea petal lies on the floor
empty, its’ life can’t be seen anymore
The flowers has bloomed, the blossoms have died
Every petal a tear drop that has landed while cried

The stem of the flower refuses to grow
The foundation is latent, the healing is slow
If only the timing could have saved it from loss
but contention is often the final line crossed

Annual or a perennial which one is more wise?
To live only once or to die many times?
Maybe the flower will once again sprout
maybe the plant will find a way out.