Flowers

Give me enough time, and I will be beautiful
I am love
Sometimes, even sorrow
And everything in between
The young and old will admire me
Some may take me
Some may pick me
Maybe, someone will even use blades
Is it worth being this admirable
To have to be removed from my growing place
Only to be put into a new place
One where I will wither and die
And my tears will remain
As a more admirable one will come
To replace I