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I’ve known her since she was a seedling
I watched her roots grow
I was there to see her blossom into a beautiful woman
I appreciated her growth
Now I have her here in the palm of my hand
Repeating these two questions
Does she love me?
Or does she loves me not?
Knowing that if I pull her petals
Her beauty might not make it
I know it’s wrong, but I can’t take it
It’s a decision I’ll have to live with
Because I really must know
Who it is she’s keeping her scent sweet for
Is it him or me?
How could she grow away from the man that replanted her seeds
Who watered her leaves before his own
Just so she could be the beauty he always imagined
I found my green thumb and made us happen
I looked past the soil and dirt and vowed to make us work
I nurtured her
Keep her stem under the sunlight
Clipped off all of her thorns
So that she could be held tight
Now I sense she’s being uprooted out my life
Into another mans garden making his days bright
*** that, if he lets her die there’s no coming back
He’s not aware of all she needs and her unique delicacies
My green thumb came natural I take pride in that
When I met her seeds were cracked, does she even remember that?
Or how I took my sweet time trying to mend them back together
It took a few tries but in the end they were better than ever
Only four petals left
I no longer have to guess
So I’m asking her
If she loves me?
Or does she loves me not?
Do you still love me?
She said she loves me not
