If I could, I would.
Buy all the rights world wide.
To grow chrysanthemum's wild.
I would then only grow one,
Twice every year,
Send you in May 9th, and Feb 14th.
All white,
All pure,
All virgin as your lips and heaving soul.
The only thing that I worry,
Will you accept them?
Or leave them out, because they cannot wait,
Unlike me, have a very different gait.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem