As a kid I often picked dandelions
Because I loved to watch them fly away.
As an adult I always picked the pretty girl
And loved to watch them drift away. As a kid I often picked roses Because I loved the pricks of their thorns As an adult I always picked the pretty girl And loved the pain Now it just seems as if I'm pushing daisies Wasting away my own personal growth For a flower that won't seed Or won't even return like my perennials