Mary Mary, quite contrary,
How does your Hanahaki grow?
With petals blooming, but inside you're gloom,
And roses intertwined, the pain does show.
With every word unspoken, love takes its toll,
A curse, a melody, that takes its control.
In your lungs, a garden of unrequited affection,
Each cough, a reminder of your heart's infection.
Lily of the valley, a secret love unsaid,
But the blossoms keep blooming, petals turning red.
Jasmine vines entwined, choking your breath,
As the pain deepens, dancing with your death.
Carnations of longing, wrapped around your soul,
Every petal a tear, taking a heavy toll.
Daisies of desire, sprouting deep inside,
Oh Mary Mary, the pain you can't hide.
You water them with sorrow, tears never-ending,
As the Hanahaki grows, your heart's descending.
In this twisted garden, love becomes a curse,
But your love's unrequited, only making it worse.
Mary Mary, quite contrary,
How does your Hanahaki grow?
With a heart torn asunder, petals of woe,
In this tragic tale, love's bitter blow.
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