Grief and Flowers

When has grief been overwritten by flowers

Grief throbs thorough the veins nourishing the pain further 

Like the stalk holidng the flower

While petals are left to fly 
When has grief not partnered with flowers 
When 'she loves me not' is the last one out

When a wreathe is laid after our beloveds are lowered 
When has grief not been one with flowers?

They are dead themselves 
Being proffered in remembrance
To fill the arena with a pleasent nostalgia
That coulds the stench of grief 
That coulds the stench of pain 

What can the dead afterall offer?
A sweet fragnant nostalgia
That's what flower masks 
That is why flowers thrive

When a garland is hung on a portrait of the departed