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poetry

She loved her Petunias,
I tried to say no –
the flowers would die!
But, they needed a home.
Though her eyes were large em’ralds,
my courage faltered none.
There would be no Petunias
an’where in my home.
And thus, the story ended:
the Petunias would die.
Somehow I still figure,
they were luckier than I.