a man once told me love was hard that both sides have to feed a flower that grows from the soil needs water, sun, and seed both bodies shields from wind and hail sometimes a heavy snow i didnt fight that fight back then but the man he seemed to know that without the other on the west the eastern shield would fall he begged me tend the flower but my heart would not at all today i think about the flower a stronger one, i know a bloom i wouldnt hesitate to shelter from the snow but this flora is a different kind its petals never die it stands strong without a shield its blossom lifted high it needs no aid from him or i complete all on its own its roots and stem are mighty its weak as heavy stone