The boy brings me tulips to apologize
The man sends me a bouquet to say he is sorry
Like a father and son
They are of same wood
And bear the same gifts
But there is nothing to apologize for
The boy says they will leave
For a life of violence
And I feel they have left already
I will miss them
But such is life
The tulips have died
The roses will die
Their givers will die
And I am dead already
But I will cherish these memories
Of pretending to be alive with you
And I will dry the flowers
And hang them to my wall
To remind me
Of the father and the son
And their endearing ways
