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Flowers for my grave
When you die, it is a tradition
To place flowers on your grave
To honor your death
But why?
Why is it
that your death
Is worth more than
A flower's life
We pick a flower
Killing it slowly
Letting it suffer
All to honor
The death of another
Is this right?
What makes us think
That a flower's life
Is worth less than us
Even in death
We never give thanks
To the poor dead flower
Who's beauty has given light
To a dark and dreary stone
When I die
I would like a grave next to me
For all the flowers
That have suffered and died
To make me more beautiful
Even in death
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