There are two types of people in this world:
the ones who pick a flower and keep it for themselves,
and the ones who water it,
simply appreciating the flower for what it is.

One will pluck you and watch you wither.
The other will tend to you,
nurturing you until you bloom—
even if that means someone else
may one day come along,
pick you,
and call you their own.

I am the nurturing kind.
The universe has instilled in me
a strong, maternal energy.
And as corny as it may sound,
I would rather stand back
and see you grow,
than pluck you only to watch you fade.

I just hope—
when someone finally chooses you,
they won’t let you die.