Roses and Weeds

Standing in the garden
I've mastered the art of disguise
Hidden between roses and lilies
To hide my elaborate lies.

My petals have turned velvet
My aroma a sweet flora
My stem is smooth as satin
My face is blushed and cordial.  

If someone were to choose me
Uproot me from the ground
Pick apart my petals
Inspect me all around,

Dissect the inner workings
of my geometric deception
They would discover a weed
Far from perfection.
 
I have not grown on my own accord
But rather placed, pruned, quenched, cleaned,
Protected in a greenhouse
With no troubles to intervene.

Guided up a trellis
Guarded and directed
And what have I done?
Besides stand there, and accept it.