Flowers, a Shakespearean sonnet

This is a Shakespearean sonnet about flowers.

Oh what of these fresh flowers we have here?
A petal here, a petal there, you see.
Why do they cower from me, what's to fear?
They are just as gentle as they could be.

Here, little petal. There, little petal.
I sing like a little child in my mind.
We see a Devil. Sun's on the meadow.
It would help me if I could be more kind.

Running through the fields, I do contemplate,
Ask myself, Where have all the flowers gone?
Without a world of growth to regulate.
I am a winner, but what have I won?

It's not worth it to leave the earth unfed.
I will live my life for this flowerbed.