Picked Flowers

The beauty is overpowering;
The scent is all around.
To possess the flower
Causes joy to abound.

You have the world's beauty
Captured in a vase.
How can such sweetness
Exist in one place?

But picked flowers
Are doomed from the start.
They leave you almost always
With a broken heart.

They wilt away slowly
And its all because of you.
They can't live in a glass cage
Even if your love is true.

You can't capture love
And keep it in glass.
It needs room to grow
Or it will never last.

Lisa Rodenberry
July 23, 1999