Crookedness that is inherent in someone's nature can never be straightened, just as the curve can never be removed from a flower's branch drawn in a painting.

The poet shares a keen, worldly observation using a brilliant visual: can you ever straighten the bend in a flower's stem once it is frozen on canvas? Just like that painted branch, a person whose core nature is crooked or insincere cannot be reformed, no matter how hard you try. It is a gentle yet pragmatic reminder over tea that expecting someone's fundamental temperament to change is as futile as expecting art on paper to reshape itself.