Saturday, August 8, 2009

They Love Me Not

They picked my petals
One by one, they plucked
Beautiful, they said
As, fully, I bloomed
The sun shined on me
On my leaves, my stem
They all wanted a piece
So they could carry my scent
On their fingers and hands
Press me between pages
Watch my color bleed
And my softness wrinkle
So always I would last
They took them all, they did
petal-less, they left me
Colorless, I wilted
With nothing more to give
Stem too weak, sun too hot
I sank to the ground...

A second rose will bloom
Let her last longer, please
We have such short lives.

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