Don't tell me, "take my words". Who can know better how deceiving they can be, than a person creating poetries made and wrapped in lies?
People who prefer words over flowers, are living in lies. Their life is nothing but a blend of pretends. A life made up so perfect, that it makes their own roots hollow. Think twice before you conjecture upon the words, because a writer has many faces, and all of them are real.
Flowers wither and remind you of the temporary nature of everything, how nothing stays, how everything eventually fades away. But words, they deceive. They make you feel that this is going to be something permanent. That these moments, these feelings, this person will stay. Playing a little more with your conscious with every other word. Promising the truthfulness of fairy tales. None of which is real. Flowers don't lie. Temporary, but true in the moment.
Flowers over words, always.