The Most Beautiful Flower

by: Zenith

Running around the garden

Setting my eyes on a certain prize

I asked,

“Father, why do the best people die?”

He kneeled and picked the flower I’m eyeing on

Instead answering he asked,

“My child, when you are in a garden which flower do you pick?”

I looked one more time at the flower he’s holding

I answered,

“The most beautiful once”


Older enough to realize what those words meant,

She was the most beautiful flower in the garden

The fairest of them all

Picked by the sovereign gardener,

Who sees true beauty in a crowded flower bed.


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