Oh Chelsea, must you go? Yes! We all need breaks! I look forward to when you are back. So for the last in a while, I will endeavor to write the worst poem ever! ( I know nothing of hitchhiking or petunias.)
Roses are black, I mean petunias
Because they lack, attendance at funerals
Hey! There’s a hitchhiker holding petunias
Is he going to a funeral?
The end (of someone)