Roses are reds,
Violets are blue,
These are both valid points, and I’ll address them in a moment, but first…
But does anyone stop to comfort the violets in their sorrow? Even once?
No!
You know, depression is a chemical imbalance and has many dangerous side effects. But when it becomes a part of ones identity, as it has for the violets, it transcends its mortal debilitation and becomes a blight on the very soul.
When I’m elected, I’m going to make violets purple again! And not by adding rose colored glasses, no. Not by that. Who needs all the thorns roses bring anyway? No, I dream of a garden where honest, hardworking violets can grow bigly without the radical redness of roses!
In other words, f*** you roses.
Let’s Get Pruning ™
This poem brought to you by Goldman Sachs.
The Daily Travesty 