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Quote the Potato
The last rose within a rose lies dry and bent, dying
Over it's rot a drunk man kneels disrout
The seasons and weather were not kind
An idea forms as the he digs the plant out
The rose within a rose is not down for the count
Carefully the sober man carries the last of it's kind to his lab
Within these walls he has the tools that gives him atout
Placing it, carefully aside the rot he goes to a bin
Inside are potatoes on potatoes all spread throughout
The rose within a rose will not be wiped out
The young man knew a potato would not solve this problem
But inside was a grafting tool left due to him being undevout
To his former profession of gardener of flowers
They the potatoes saluted him with a shout
The rose within a rose is in good hands with this boy scout
Wait a minute, potatoes don't cheer
Turned around, did a double take
Maybe the man had too much beer
What's that sound, could have been baked
The spuds said wide awake:
“Oh gardener of flowers,
Please heed our wise advice
Even with your great powers
Beware of your sad vice!”
Before the man could listen to more
He fled from the lab with haste
Left the country, and swore
Never to garden posthaste
The man instead went into space
Over it's rot a drunk man kneels disrout
The seasons and weather were not kind
An idea forms as the he digs the plant out
The rose within a rose is not down for the count
Carefully the sober man carries the last of it's kind to his lab
Within these walls he has the tools that gives him atout
Placing it, carefully aside the rot he goes to a bin
Inside are potatoes on potatoes all spread throughout
The rose within a rose will not be wiped out
The young man knew a potato would not solve this problem
But inside was a grafting tool left due to him being undevout
To his former profession of gardener of flowers
They the potatoes saluted him with a shout
The rose within a rose is in good hands with this boy scout
Wait a minute, potatoes don't cheer
Turned around, did a double take
Maybe the man had too much beer
What's that sound, could have been baked
The spuds said wide awake:
“Oh gardener of flowers,
Please heed our wise advice
Even with your great powers
Beware of your sad vice!”
Before the man could listen to more
He fled from the lab with haste
Left the country, and swore
Never to garden posthaste
The man instead went into space
The growth from the dirt is so firmly rooted,
It must remain Earthbound it seems, without doubt,
But in combo takes flight. A tuber that rose?
Far out like a beanstalk the thorny stem grows!
***
Years hence, the man lies on deathbed
Queried on how he coaxed all from the mud...
At the last, the citizen whispered, "Rosespud."
It must remain Earthbound it seems, without doubt,
But in combo takes flight. A tuber that rose?
Far out like a beanstalk the thorny stem grows!
***
Years hence, the man lies on deathbed
Queried on how he coaxed all from the mud...
At the last, the citizen whispered, "Rosespud."
I just don't understand this one at all. Some of the words are made up, and I can't really tell from context what they're supposed to mean. There's kind of a rhyme scheme and kind of a meter. The protagonist finds a rose, but some potatoes tell him not to bother trying to grow it, and I don't know why, so he listens to them and goes to space instead because reasons? It feels like an absurdist piece to me, and if that was the intent, then you got there.