I met a boy at the park,

he said he had to be home before dark.

I told him that I was picking flowers,

I almost finished my bouquet that took me hours.

He complimented my hard work,

he said he loved all of my quirks.

We walked around,

I slowly let my guard down.

He saw the mixture of nature hidden in the complexity of my bouquet,

he said that it made a breathtakingly enigmatic display.

Before I knew it, he was destroying my masterpiece,

I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't cease.

He took my daises and stomped on my rose,

he ruined my chrysanthemums as my violets began to decompose.

He laughed as he decided that he took enough,

leaving me with my lilies and a single buttercup.

C.V.

fun fact: like in my poem colors, every flower (color in 'colors') mentioned stands for something. So he's not just taking flowers from her ya feel