I love you. They love you not.

This morning I plucked the heads of dead roses from the front yard bush

I picked them in honor of the people let go at my company

One paper petal to the single mother

Who has no income or insurance

At the end of next month

I love you.

They love you not.

One dried petal to the man

Who has stayed here for seven years

Turning down countless offers

Throughout his time

Trusting he would be taken care of here

I love you.

They love you not.

One wilted petal to the swollen bellied mother

About to give birth

Maternity leave stripped from her well prepared birthing plan

I love you.

They love you not.

One droopy petal for those that have to stay

Those that find out the names of the riffed

Little by little

Like a picking at a scab

Those that have to try to clean up the mess

They did not make in the first place

I love you.

They love you not

I skip each petal that loves you not

I leave the greedy pigs

Who claim the title of “leaders”

To remain on the stem

To remain beaten down by the sun

Until their petals fall to the ground

Just like their fate

Will come to them one day