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
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