On my birthday,
I received a pink fake flower.
Not particularly fond of it,
but had to accept it.
Made of synthetic fabric,
its splendor was not overshadowed at all.
Left it at home for a few days,
still standing tall like when I first got it.
Yesterday we watched the snowfall together,
today we listen to the thunderstorm.
Tomorrow might be scorching hot,
next week will be the sound of crunching leaves.
The roses in the living room,
the chrysanthemums on the windowsill,
all standing there blankly,
unaware of their own foolishness.
Looking at my fake flower again,
fortunately I accepted it back then.
Beautiful things are meant to be enjoyed,
why bother whether it's real or fake?
On a spring outing,
I saw a bunch of identical fake flowers.
Not particularly surprised,
until he came to my house again.
"Sorry, sorry,"
his voice sounded startled.
We still need to protect the greenery,
next time, a handwritten greeting card again.