No One Has Give Me A Flower Poem by Joseph Wraithbone

Countless petals, in jars, bowls, drawers
From past lovers, placed in odd spots around their lives
A myriad of colors: red, pink, yellow, even blue
I remember picking out each set of flowers

There standing in the isle
Noting the ridiculous prices,
Yet I never stopped to consider putting them back
Instead I would comb through each bundle
Looking to find the perfect floral display of affection

I would snatch the best of the best up
And proudly stroll towards the checkout counter
A smile plastered widely on my naive face
A beep, a display of the screen, a clinking of change and cash

I'd be there, at a front door: the great wall of defense
Between that wall stood the one I loved
The one this sporadic gift was meant for
I always had butterflies just as I heard footsteps from within

The door would open to a smiling face
Or maybe a gasp of surprise and excitement
I'd flash that trademark smile, as I often found myself doing
And tack on some witty comment, 'I was just in town, so I thought I'd drop by.'

I bet the felt superb
As if the only person in my world
Someone I would go out of my way for
If only just to get some flowers

No one, not one, has given me a flower
Not a rose, or a tulip, nor tigerlily
No, not even a dandelion
Never a single one

Somedays I need a flower
Somedays I need only one