A flower...

This is a Shakespearean sonnet about flowers.

I walked outside and then found a flower.
I could not read or write on its petals.
I picked it up, but then had no power.
My chest full of military medals.

I could not order the flower's retreat.
It would not play my new Switch 2 with me.
I could not take its name or feed it meat.
Oh, why wouldn't this soft plant let me be?

I took the flower home and found a glass.
I filled it with water and went to town.
Ask a question and I will take a pass.
Its head was red, but down, its roots were brown.

Just how did this thing get into my house?
I'll never tell, and now I'm off to douse.