A Flower's Demise

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem I wrote

Submitted: September 25, 2010

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Submitted: September 25, 2010

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The final flower had fallen from the plant at last.
It was left, a ghost of it’s former self, only long reaching limbs and that awful, consuming smell of bleach lingering.
There had been sweetness there once, beauty, but now it was a corpse in the semi-dark of my laundry, taunting me.
Death is inescapable.
To touch, it was cold and smooth as silk.
Like a death mask, it wore the browning patches with a strange and depressing kind of pride.
There had been sweetness there once, beauty, but now it was a corpse on the ornate counter of my laundry, taunting me.
Beauty will always fade.
To hold in my hand, it was fragile and thin.
An overworked life, a body unfed and unnourished despite all my efforts and all of my love, despite all the time.
There had been sweetness there once, beauty, but now it was a corpse resting on the the lined palm of my hand, taunting me.
Fragile things will always break.
To throw it in the garden seemed fitting in a way.
To cast it into the world beyond, beside it’s comrades who would surely mourn for it as thoroughly and perhaps more than even I had.
There had been sweetness there once, beauty, but now it was a corpse on the freshly fallen snow of my yard, taunting me.
It was just a flower, but I was just a human.


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