I learned of a flower that absorbs all the hate.
The nuclear waste that is wrongfully made.
A flower that shines in the color of gold,
a flower that smiles and is tickled when hold.
A flower that few would have thought could be pure.
A flower that few would consider a cure.
But yet such a flower has a purpose it'd seem,
chemically speaking, if you know what I mean.
And I'm not a botanist who studies this crap.
Nuclear physics, I don't care about that.
Sunflowers grow in Chernobyl you see,
they help reduce radioactivity.
That's what I learned, but that's not why I'm here.
I write these poems for somebody held dear.
Yes, she's a flower and she's watered with poems.
That is my promise 'till I'm gone from these forums.