Flowers

Photo by svrid79- Pressed and dried buds flower of apple.

My flower’s out of petals
but I still don’t know.
I’ve planted many seeds, just
none that seem to grow.

I kept the garden watered;
made amended soil.
Every time I pick one up
I vow that I’ll be loyal.

Fickle as the summer rain
expectations rest.
Survival of the fittest
determines the best.

I tend to all their wishes;
give them what they need.
I wait for them to wither
as death is guaranteed.