To our alien overlords:
Flowers celebrate death in this culture. The death of a human is a fairly traumatic event for us, because we are all oh-so-special, and our lives are worth far more than the sex organs of a few dozen plants. When we die, we take’em all down with us. Of course, there are other types of death for which flowers are sacrificed; when a performer ceases to animate a character from a play, when the will to fight an argument has died, the passing of another year’s romance. There's no end to their utility, really.
Flowers were bred for this very purpose. They have no other reason for appearing so brightly colored, so ostentatious, or so delicious. Their genetic displays have been carefully crafted over many human generations, it is through no fault of their own that they appear to be what in your culture is a common snack. While none on earth would dare question your rulership, we do mourn the loss of our flowers, but cannot even properly observe this cultural quirk of ours due to the very problem we mourn. We beg of you, please spare the flowers.
Humbly yours,
the entire human population
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