You were a flower
I was concrete
Yet with each petal plucked
My walls turned into some substance that could be cut with scissors
You were supposed to be paper
A delicate thing that could crumple
I was supposed to be a rock
Forged from the hard and harder
But you weren’t a flower
And I wasn’t concrete
You were the sheet
That covered me
Benjamin Grossman 
Very good. love the ending!
Thanks!
Welcome!
Wow😳
Thanks!