Unreal

Short-ish poem that I wrote for no reason, that is directed towards NO ONE in particular.

UNREAL

A symbol of love
Of beauty
And peace.
A symbol of love
To cherish
And keep.
A symbol of love
Presented
To the accepted.

But are all flowers beautiful?

Must every present,
Be something that'll die?
Chocolates and roses,
That fall from the sky?
Do the flowers prove anything?
A symbol of love?
Rooted from it's home,
And left in a vase,
Waiting to die?
Alone.

But are all flowers are beautiful?

It's like a bullet through a flock of doves
Pain is lost
In a myriad of love
A red rose
The color of blood
Dies in a vase
But is seen as love

But it's unreal
Because not all flowers are beautiful.