This is written for every fragile flower that has suffered at the careless or cruel hand of a man, and it is dedicated to every faithless man I’ve ever known, all two hundred thousand of them. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
No, I’m not bitter… why do you ask?
From curling roots to slender neck, it bore
Exotic blooms of purest milky white
So beautiful; it cared for nothing more
Than earthen pot and water, air and light.
I watched this trusting orchid weeks gone by,
Its glory crowned with brisk vitality.
Now vicious Time proves naive trust a lie –
Our simple joy could not forever be.
Call my heart this fragile, dying flower:
Your hand its petals crushed and tore away.
The troth I’d pledged you brought it grief this hour;
In dawn’s harsh light I rue our yesterday.
Could I undo the gift of love I made!
I’d sooner be an orchid carved from jade.
