Flowers

All of us are flowers,
Some of us are lilies, others roses,
We are meant to be together in a garden,
Or so we are told by the gardener.
Some of us don’t want to be together,
But the gardener forces us to be together.
The gardener wants us bow to them,
Because if we don’t, then we get cut,
Because the gardener wants us perfect.
The gardener doesn’t want rejects,
For they do not look good,
But, every flower is beautiful,
In its own way,
Down to the littlest imperfection