Bloom only for me
I found her on the seedy streets of Japan,
A withered cherry blossom in a can.
She merely needed a light,
An escape from the dark's bite.
Bold crimson petals adorned her frame,
With a porcelain so white and fragile to maim.
But for all her deformities, was an ethereal beauty
That could divert even the most sober of men on the line of duty.
Entranced by this force of nature,
I knew without it I could not abjure.
Hence, I bought her off the barter,
In hope to ease this lonely martyr.
I watered and nourished her like I would my own,
And cared for and loved her till she was grown.
In turn she gave me bliss and a love to cherish,
But happiness is always short-lived, for her affliction yielded to perish.
A/N: No, this poem is not about a man in love with a plant (and please slap yourselves if you thought as much).