Plastic Flowers

There are plastic flowers in my room.

Bright and shiny

Man-made evergreen

There to be enjoyed and forgotten

And a persistent design.

There are plastic flowers in my room.

Dusty and tight

To be forever seen

No life, no fuss, no love

Only awe for their painted design

There are plastic flowers in my room.

The perfect imitations

But ever so flawed

I do not trust the plastic flowers in my room.

I inspect the petals to find the ruse

The color may not be right

The familiar leaf limp and the buds hollow

I should know which is a gift and which is not.

But when I check those petals oh so many times

The real ones seem plastic too.